


Isn't It Lovely How Artists Can Capture Us?

by TonySawicki



Category: Dir en grey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elementary School Teachers, Anal Sex, Arguing, Art Teacher Kyo, Communication Failure, Frottage, Intimacy, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Mild Angst, Mistakes, Music Teacher Die, Nonsense, Oral Sex, Past Die/Shinya, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 97,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26338396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonySawicki/pseuds/TonySawicki
Summary: Shinya stepped further into the gym to look curiously at the rack of instruments. “How did you convince the principal to let you try them out?”Die chuckled. “Must've caught him in a good mood. And I might have preyed on his competitive nature a bit. No one else has ukuleles at the elementary school level.”“It is ambitious.”Die shrugged. The perfect time to teach children a new instrument wasn’t likely to just present itself, but that didn’t mean everything needed to stay exactly as it was, just to be safe.~OR the Elementary School Teacher AU that I'm pretty sure no one even considered asking for!!~
Relationships: Die/Kyo (Dir en grey)
Comments: 204
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New AU! This one has been a long time in the works, so I am nervous but excited to start sharing it with you! It's set in an elementary school, so there are a lot of child characters hanging around, and any romance (between teachers, obvs) is going to definitely going to take a really long time to get going, so I'll up the rating to Explicit if/when we get to that point!!  
> Not totally set on a regular update schedule yet, probably twice a week?  
> And on that note, my birthday is coming up this week! on Friday! Wow, it's been a year already since my last one? Yikes. (As always, if you're inclined to give me some birthday gift, I'd love any extra comments on your favorite fic(s) of mine!)  
> Okay so yes. I hope everyone's surviving and staying cool (it was up to 104 degrees here today).   
> Oh, right, and the title is from the song "Children and Art" (which maybe overall doesn't apply to the story, but the general concept of children and art for sure does, SO) by Stephen Sondheim. It's a lovely song, but maybe it's weird without the context of the musical (Sunday in the Park with George) around it. Right, that's all!!  
> Enjoy <3 <3 <3!!

Die kicked the gymnasium's sliding door wide again as it tried to slip from where he'd left it open, tapped it with the toe of his shoe once for good measure, and stepped back cautiously, hoping it wouldn’t slide closed on him while he was trying to maneuver the wheeled rack through.

It was more that the rack was ungainly than that it was too heavy to push, and he had no concern about his ability to move it, except it would be such a bad thing for him to clip the edge of the doorframe.

Keeping the process slow and careful he managed to drag the rack of ukuleles inside, and from there he could start setting up for the day’s first class.

It was an exciting day. Along with the introduction of the ukuleles, they were also scheduled to start working on music for their winter recital. Christmas music was always a big hit with the kids, and Die knew they were all looking forward to it. That could mean he needed to anticipate an increase in general chaos, but he was prepared to handle that.

He’d taken out his binder of sheet music and was just starting to sort it into piles, when there was a quiet knock at the open door, and Die looked up to find Shinya poking his head into the gym.

“Good morning!” he said. “I’m just setting up.”

Shinya nodded. "I came by to see if you needed help with anything, but it looks like it’s all under control.”

“Could've used your help a little while ago when I was trying to get the ukes through the door.”

“It seems like you managed fine on your own,” Shinya said. He stepped further into the gym to look curiously at the rack of instruments. “How did you convince the principal to let you try them out?”

Die chuckled. “Must've caught him in a good mood. And I might have preyed on his competitive nature a bit. No one else has ukuleles at the elementary school level.”

“It is ambitious.”

Die shrugged. “It’s a simple enough instrument. Besides, isn’t it more fun to branch out beyond just the usual recorders and melodicas?”

“And you really trust the children with these?” Shinya asked, raising an eyebrow. “I doubt if you can afford to replace them easily.”

“I think it’ll be all right,” Die said. “What, you don’t trust the kids?”

Shinya gave him a look. “Die, I work with first-graders, I can’t even trust them not to have their shirts on backwards.”

Instinctively, Die brought one hand up to the collar of his own shirt. “Then I’m lucky I’ll have you there to help me keep them in line,” he said. “Oh, here, I have the Christmas sheet music if you want to start looking over it.”

Shinya accepted the small stack of papers from him. “I’m not too worried about being underprepared for ‘Jingle Bell Rock.’ But thank you. I’ll glance at it before your first class today, which is… third grade?” He looked at the clock on the wall. “After lunch?”

Die looked at the clock, too, and nodded. Morning recess was almost over, and Shinya would need to return to class. “And where will your kids be, while you’re here playing piano for the third-graders?”

“It’s Thursday,” Shinya said, like that should make it obvious. “They have their library visit after lunch.”

There was no way Die could keep track of Shinya's whole schedule, but he always appreciated when he was able to come play piano for the music classes. It was easier to work with him than with the volunteer from the sixth grade who played on the days when Shinya couldn’t make the time.

“So I guess I’ll see you then,” Die said. “With the third-graders.”

“Of course,” Shinya said, inclining his head.

“Hey, if you’re free,” Die said, just as Shinya started to make his exit, “would you maybe want to get dinner later?”

A frown crossed Shinya’s face. “Well—I'm not sure..."

“Just as friends,” Die rushed to say. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Oh,” Shinya said, looking relieved. “Friendly dinner."

“Yeah. I just thought it had been a while since we got together for a meal, and I know I’ve been busy, but if you want…?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” Shinya said. “You mean for tonight, right?”

Die nodded. “I have a few private lessons to teach once school is out, but I should be finished around six pm.”

“Then I’ll meet you here, or in the practice rooms?”

“Probably the practice rooms,” Die said. “I think one of the clubs meets in here after school.”

“Mm. All right, sounds like a plan.” Shinya headed out, and Die resumed his work, not too terribly distracted by his departure.

It would be nice to have dinner with Shinya; it was something they’d done quite often in the past, but at some point, things had gotten a little too close, and though they had fun together, a more intimate relationship hadn’t really been sustainable.

They’d drifted apart once that had become clear, but Die was hopeful that they could recover their friendship, even if the ship for anything _more_ than that had pretty much sailed.

The remainder of the morning was spent finishing preparations for the afternoon’s music classes, seeing to it that all the ukuleles were correctly tuned, and that everything was ready for the students.

In a way that Die didn’t really want to admit to Shinya, he was just a little bit nervous. Shinya was right that bringing in ukuleles was sort of ambitious, and although Die had been working at this school with these students for the past couple years, he’d never tried to teach them ukulele before.

Part of that was due to the principal’s inflexible position on the subject—and every subject. Die got along with him well enough, but he wasn’t always the most open to deviations from the norm.

It was a point of irony, considering that out of all the local elementary schools, this was regarded as the “hippie” school, staffed largely by eccentric types, and with rules for appearance and teaching methods decidedly more lax than one would find elsewhere. In spite of all that, Hayashi-sensei was usually difficult to convince when anyone wanted to try something new.

Die had been thrilled beyond belief when he’d gotten him to agree to the new music curriculum, but when he was faced with the first day of teaching it, Die couldn’t help but wonder why he’d been so eager to make things more difficult for himself.

Maybe he should have put it off longer, at least until after the New Year. Wasn’t the Christmas material enough to keep Die and his students occupied the next couple months without throwing new instruments into the mix? If they really wanted to be in good shape for the winter concert, the music would require their full attention.

Die shook that thought out of his head as he went to get his lunch, slipping through the alleyway behind the school and across the street to the Lawson on the other side. He could always find some excuse to put things off. First the winter recital, next the spring recital, graduation, the cultural festival. The perfect time to teach children a new instrument wasn’t likely to just present itself, but that didn’t mean everything needed to stay exactly as it was, just to be safe.

He took his lunch back to the main school building, and ate at his desk, which was on the far side of the staff room, facing the desk belonging to Kaoru, fifth grade teacher and Die’s longtime friend.

“How’s it going?” he asked, taking a sip from his iced coffee. He probably should’t have been drinking coffee when he was already stressed and antsy about his classes, but oh well, that kind of thing didn’t tend to stop him from his established habits.

Kaoru didn’t glance up from his book, but grunted what might have been a greeting in response.

“Your class excited about starting Christmas music today?”

That got Kaoru to look up at him, vaguely disapproving. “Shinya tells me you really went ahead and got all those ukuleles. What exactly are you thinking?”

“That it would be a good experience for the kids?”

“Well, obviously,” Kaoru said, letting the book he was reading close. “No one is debating that. But they’re not paying you any more for your extra effort, are they?”

Die frowned. “It’s not about the money.”

“I know,” Kaoru sighed. “For you, it’s all about the kids, improving their lives one twangy little music note at a time. But maybe it _should_ be about the money, at least somewhat. Don’t you want to settle down at some point?”

“I’ll get around to it when the time is right,” Die said uncomfortably.

“You won’t if the time is suddenly right and you realize you don’t have enough _saved_ to settle down,” Kaoru said.

Die was more or less accustomed to this kind of lecture form Kaoru. Despite his not being much older than Die himself, Kaoru was disillusioned and had little patience for the “fancies of youth,” as Die had once heard him call them, like some nineteenth century Dickens grandfather. It all seemed to be some side effect of getting married and having kids fairly young; Kaoru felt the need to dispense wisdom on all aspects of life, whether or not it was invited.

Kaoru leaned his elbows on his desk and his voice softened. “I’m not saying all this to be an asshole. What I’m getting at is actually that you’re a very talented musician, and I’m sure you could be using your skills to secure a better income. You’re a _guitarist_ , you shouldn’t be stuck teaching six-year-olds recorder!”

Die half-smiled. “Ukulele is closer to guitar, isn’t it?”

“That’s not really my point,” Kaoru said. “I just think you’re probably underutilized here. And _Hayashi…_ ”

Just then the announcement sounded, telling everyone it was cleaning time, and people began to start tidying around them. They moved to help.

“I understand what you’re saying,” Die said as he disposed of the garbage from his lunch. “And I do appreciate that you’re looking out for me, wanting what’s best for me and everything. But this job—it’s fulfilling. The kids mean the world to me, and I wouldn’t want to abandon them just for a better paycheck.”

Kaoru sighed again and shook his head, but he didn’t argue anymore as he pulled a couple brooms out of a tall cabinet along one wall, and they set to work cleaning until it was time for the next class period to start.

Die was ready in position in the gym when the first of the third-graders appeared, peering at him from the doorway.

“Come in!” Die said, gesturing for them to enter. “Come find a spot to sit down, we have a lot to go over today.”

“Are we finally going to start working on Christmas music?” one girl, Suzuho, asked, as Die had known she would. She was one of his most precocious music students, and always impatient for them to start working on something new.

“We are,” Die confirmed, “but I have something else to show you before we get to that.”

Once everyone had filed in, leaving their shoes tidily by the door, the whole group bowed, and sat on the floor, looking up at him expectantly.

“So, for a long while now, I’ve been trying to get this new instrument for you guys," Die said. He took one ukulele off the rack to show as an example. “For now, they’re just going to be for us to use here in class, and it might take a while to get the hang of it, but I’d like for us to try to play at least a couple of our songs at the winter concert on these.”

One boy called out, “Is it a baby guitar?”

“You’re close,” Die said. “It’s a ukulele.”

There were murmurs of interest and recognition from the class, and Die chose a few trustworthy kids to start handing out the instruments.

“I don’t want to hear _anyone_ trying to play their ukulele before I finish explaining what we’re doing,” he warned them, but of course it only took about thirty seconds for them to start strumming and plucking away, until the gymnasium was filled with the discordant din of seventy-five eight-year-olds holding noisemaking devices.

That was when Shinya walked in, frowning. He clapped rhythmically to get their attention, and they clapped back, looking cowed by the cool judgment in his expression.

“I certainly _hope_ that you are giving Andou-sensei your respect,” Shinya said in a serious voice. “He goes to great lengths to make opportunities available to you, but if you can’t listen, maybe he shouldn’t bother.”

The children were effectively shamed into silence, and Die was honestly shamed right along with them. He knew that everyone thought he was kind of a pushover, and it was embarrassing when another teacher thought they needed to step in, like Die couldn’t get the students under control on his own.

He muttered his thanks as Shinya took his position at the piano, and the kids were much better listeners with Shinya there glaring at them.

The class was mostly spent introducing the basics of the ukulele. They sang through “Joy to the World” with Shinya accompanying them a couple times, but Christmas music wasn’t really their main focus. Die dragged out the blackboard, went over the names of the strings and how to hold it, and by the end of fifty minutes, they could play a C chord and do a simple strumming pattern. Cleaning up and getting all the instruments back on the rack where they belonged proved to be a little more chaotic and time-consuming than Die had planned for, but he figured that, too, would get easier as the students got used to it.

His second music class of the day was fifth-graders, and went a bit smoother, even with the student piano player being the one to help them find the notes. Kaoru sat to the side the whole time, grading papers, watching his class out of the corner of his eye. Die was sure he could have done that work back at his desk, as the other fifth grade teachers had chosen to do, but was being deliberately present just in case Die needed backup. It might have been once again embarrassing if Die hadn’t appreciated it so much.

All things considered, it went well, and Die couldn’t complain when Kaoru was just being helpful. He was pleased to see that the fifth-graders even seemed excited about what they were learning. Whether or not Kaoru could see that, and see that it made everything worth it, it was very clear to Die.

“So why does it even bother you?” Shinya asked over dinner that evening. “I mean, Kaoru wasn’t being disruptive to your class, I assume?”

“No, of course he wasn’t,” Die said. “I guess—it’s nothing like that. It’s more just that I don’t want to look weak, maybe?”

“You feel like Kaoru undermines your authority?”

“No, that’s not it either,” Die said. “I just feel like _he_ thinks I can’t do it on my own. And I appreciate him being there, just like I appreciate when _you_ get the kids to listen to me, but I don’t want to _need_ you there. I want to be able to earn their respect without someone more intimidating standing over them.” Die frowned, looked down at his chopsticks. “Is it—am I difficult to respect?”

Shinya gave him a sympathetic look. “You can’t think of it that way. They’re _children_. They don’t see people in the same terms that you do. If anything, the problem is that they _like_ you too much.”

Die didn’t see that as comforting.

“All I mean by that,” Shinya said, “is that they _enjoy_ your class. It’s fun for them, and you’re kind—which is an _important_ quality, in any teacher—but they just can’t take you as seriously.” He pushed some hair behind his ear. “Kaoru and I… We’re their everyday teachers. They can’t escape our consequences and they know that. You only exist in their music class, once a week. Outside of that hour, they don’t have to face any repercussions of their behavior with you.”

“So I should be stricter, less soft? How do I get them to take me seriously?”

Shinya sighed. “One of the great things about you is your gentle and forgiving nature. I don’t think you need to worry about scaring the students. You respect them, and in time they’ll respect you, too.”

Die wasn’t sure he really bought that. After all, it wasn’t like he was a brand new teacher. He’d been at that school for over two years; surely, some of the students should have learned to respect him by now.

Then again, he didn’t particularly want to change his teaching style or anything. He didn’t want to become one of those teachers who yelled, or humiliated children in front of the whole group. He knew that in his life outside of work he could sometimes have an ugly temper, and he never wanted to show that side of himself to the children he taught. He just didn’t want his colleagues to assume he was too soft and pathetic to manage a class on his own.

“Besides," Shinya pointed out, “your classes are generally comprised of the _whole_ _grade at one time_ , with the exception of your higher level little groups. No one should be expected to control that many kids at once without help.”

“I guess that’s true,” Die said, but it hardly changed his feelings of inadequacy.

“And I admit, they did better with those ukuleles than I expected. You might be able to pull it off after all.”

Die nodded. “I already knew I could. I just wish we’d had more time to look at the holiday music.”

“You still have, what, two months until the recital?” Shinya said. “I think that’s plenty of time.” He paused. “Truthfully, though, I feel like maybe the ukuleles should be an older youth opportunity. Maybe third grade and up.”

“You don’t want your class to learn?”

“Not that I don’t _want_ them to,” Shinya said. “I’m sure some of them would do well with it, but… the majority would probably struggle, might get frustrated, and they’re not necessarily responsible enough to handle it. Not everyone can play at the same time anyway, right? Why don’t you just have the younger kids stick to recorder for now? Keep it simple?”

That was a reasonable suggestion, and much as Die wanted to argue just for the sake of getting his way, he couldn’t deny that Shinya was probably right.

A strange silence fell between them then, and Die’s mind drifted. It was so much like other times at other dinners they’d shared, in another life, a distant past. It wouldn’t do to bring that up, but all at once Die could think of nothing else.

“How have you been?” Shinya asked softly.

Die got the impression Shinya’s thoughts weren’t so far removed from his own. He tried to laugh it off. “What do you mean? You see me all the time, you know how I’ve been.”

Shinya didn’t quite share in his amusement. “I see you, but we haven’t talked as much recently, like we used to. Is there… anything new in your life?”

It was always disconcerting when Shinya got all serious like this. Die didn’t need to think long before answering, “No, nothing really. A couple new private lessons. No big changes.” He peered across the table at Shinya. Their food was finished, and still they sat there, neither of them making any move towards getting up or leaving. “What about you?” Die asked.

Shinya went on frowning thoughtfully. “I’ve been doing well.”

He didn’t elaborate, and something about his expression made Die reluctant to ask for details.

They didn’t spend too long from there before getting up and paying for their meal. They said goodnight, and left separately, and Die pushed down the memories of other evenings when they’d said goodnight to each other, times when he had felt Shinya’s surprising warmth pressed up against him, when he’d reveled in the smile that only he seemed to be able to bring to Shinya’s face.

That wasn’t how things were anymore, and Die was glad to count Shinya among his friends.

He went home alone, his mind already returning to time management and lesson plans.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys will get into this story. I realize it's a little niche, but I think it might be fun anyway, and I really hope you will agree! Thank you so far~  
> ps it's my birthday!! Fic comments on this and/or any story make wonderful presents! It's an awful year, but I'm so happy to be able to share my writing with all you lovely people nonetheless, and I hope everyone is staying safe <3

“You’re not married, are you?”

Die looked up in surprise at the sixth grader who’d asked the question. “Are you speaking to _me_?”

The girl nodded, leaned over the ukulele in her lap so she could lower her voice. “You don’t wear a wedding ring. That means you’re single, right?”

It wasn’t unheard-of for the students to have questions and curiosity about their teachers’ private lives, but Die didn't think he'd ever get used to being publicly interrogated.

“He might have a girlfriend,” a nearby boy posited.

“Or he might have a boyfriend,” said another.

A few girls giggled.

“What’s so funny about that?” the first boy snapped. His name was Kenta, and he was fairly popular, involved in student council. Whatever he said was accepted by the majority of other kids; the giggles stopped immediately.

“What about Terachi-sensei?” The first girl asked, a deceptively casual air about her.

Die narrowed his eyes. “What _about_ him?”

“You two spend a lot of time together’s all,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t see any other teachers coming to help out with piano and everything.”

“Plenty of other teachers help me in whatever way they can,” Die said. “Now if you would go back to practicing this strumming pattern—”

“But you two are close,” the girl next to Kenta piped up. “I see you walking around together, even when he isn’t doing piano for you. How long have you known each other?”

“Is this line of questioning a ploy to waste class time?” Die said suspiciously. “I’m single, and content, and it’s time to move on.”

“So then, you and Terachi-sensei—There’s nothing between you?”

Die swallowed, hoped his smile wasn’t too obviously forced. “We’re just friends.”

“Would you tell us if you _were_ actually a couple?” the first girl asked.

“Probably not,” Die admitted. “But I _am_ single. Now if everyone is finally ready, we can try playing all the way through the song from the beginning.” He raised his voice to make sure the whole class heard him, and instructed them where to start playing.

They didn’t sound very good so far. To be fair, it was only this class’ third practice with the ukuleles, but their lack of focus was making progress slow-going, and it wasn’t always easy for Die to keep his frustration at bay.

There was a lot to do, and the classes’ playing was only a very small part of the big picture. Die could spend every minute of class time rehearsing these numbers, but the rest of the preparations wouldn’t get miraculously finished on their own. He was spacing out thinking about the best places to hang posters around town by the time the kids finished running through “Jingle Bell Rock.”

A hand shot up in the front row, and Die called once more on the girl who had been so interested in his dating habits. “What is it, Sawa?”

“Do we have to sing while we’re playing this?” She made a face. “Like, in English?”

“It’s good for you,” Die said shortly.

He was well aware that no one wanted to speak English. Even those who were interested in foreign music and culture were loath to be put on the spot when it came to pronunciation, but Die didn’t want them to be discouraged.

“We’re gonna have to have like twenty extra rehearsals just to learn the English,” Sawa complained. “Are you sure we have to sing?”

“The lyrics aren’t that difficult,” Die said. “It’s mostly repetitive, and it’s not that fast. You should be able to practice the words at the same time that you’re playing.”

“Does Natsuki have to sing, too?” Sawa asked, nodding towards the girl at the piano. “If she doesn’t have to sing, I want to volunteer to play piano, too!”

Die sighed, feeling yet again like he was losing control of the group, but Shinya wasn’t there this time to rescue him. “This topic is not open for discussion,” he said. “We’re all going to sing, in English, and we’re going to _like_ it. Everyone clear?”

There were a few grumbles from the class, but no one made any further interruptions.

Die still felt stressed and worried about how things were coming along as he sat back in the staff room, making his to-do list for concert preparations.

Kaoru sat in his usual spot across form him, grading some papers, and apparently doing his best to tune out Die’s sporadic muttering.

“It’s going to be Christmas, so we can’t be shy about decorations,” Die said, mostly to himself. “But if it’s in the gym, that’s a lot of ground to cover. And how high are we going to be able to hang things?”

“If you’re just thinking out loud, do you think you might try thinking _not_ out loud?” Kaoru said. “I’m trying to get some work done, and you’re being distracting.”

“But I want your opinion!” Die said. “Do you think we’ll be able to buy wreaths somewhere, or should I plan on making them myself?”

“Wreaths? Are you joking?” Kaoru looked seriously unimpressed.

“It’s _Christmas_ ,” Die said again. “I want the performance space to look—festive! What do you suggest, if not wreaths? Just garland and streamers?”

Kaoru shook his head. “No, no, this is a trap. I’m not going to be dragged into it.”

“What do you mean? You clearly have some ideas. I guess we could do some of those paper chains in Christmas colors, that would probably look nice…”

“I’m not going to help you,” Kaoru said. “I have my own stuff to deal with, my own projects to prepare, and wasting time on Christmas isn’t something I’m ready to do.”

Die was only slightly disappointed. He hadn’t expected Kaoru to rush to his aid, but he would have liked his advice in at least the organizational and planning areas of the event. As the school’s only music teacher, a surprising amount of work had landed on Die’s shoulders alone.

He looked back down at the bullet points that he had so far. Perhaps the most pressing matter was that of publicity. It would be nice if they could get professionally printed materials, put a note out in the parent newsletter… Was it too early to start mentioning the concert in the weekly email blast that was sent out to community members?

None of that even touched the fact that they would need to print tickets and recruit parent volunteers to sell them.

Kaoru glanced over again as Die stood up from his desk. “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna go ask Toshiya in the office about promotional materials—unless you want to share your own wisdom about the financial chain of command for these things?”

Kaoru hurriedly shook his head and looked back down at his papers, leaving Die to fend for himself.

It wasn’t like Die was afraid to go down the hall to the administrative office. Actually he was on very good terms with Toshiya, the school secretary, but he still felt that he was something of an outsider at the school. Teaching a subject like music meant he wasn’t one of the regular faculty; he didn’t always get the same information that everyone else got, and since things sometimes changed when he wasn't looking, he wasn’t always sure how things were supposed to work.

Still he put on his most polite and genial smile as he knocked at the sliding door and let himself into the office.

He should have noticed right away that something was off, but it took him all of a few slow-motion seconds to process the problem, the way all the office staff was frozen awkwardly, grimaces on their faces, and the door connecting to the principal’s office was— _open_. It was _never_ open, but it was now, making it all too easy to hear the loud tirade of angry cursing pouring from inside.

Die froze, just like everyone else in the room, his eyes wide and startled. But that wasn’t the principal’s voice—so who on earth had the nerve to be in there screaming at the principal?

With the door open, Die could peer over and just make out the infuriated party: a small man with tattoos peeking out of his sleeves and a voice that made Die want to hide behind something.

Toshiya caught his eye and shook his head just slightly, a warning, although Die couldn’t imagine what he was warning him not to do.

There didn’t seem to be anything Die or anyone else _could_ do, other than stand rooted to the floor and stare in disbelief at the guy tearing the head of the school a new asshole.

“ _…You’re just on some fucking power trip right now, is that it?_ ” the voice went on from the office. “ _Sitting there behind your huge fucking desk, making other people feel small? Guess what, asshole! You work with children! They’re already small!_ ”

Die had to reach up to cover his mouth to keep from letting out some nervous hysterical giggle.

The man continued, “ _Hurting kids doesn’t make you strong, it just makes you a giant dick, and not the kind anyone wants to fuck, you fucking—_ ”

At this point, Die registered a firm hand on his arm and he was swiftly steered out of the office and into the hallway, where only the dim, indistinct sound of the man’s voice could be heard.

Die was still so stunned he had to blink a few times to fully understand that Toshiya had physically maneuvered him out of the administrative office.

“Sorry about that," Toshiya said in a hushed voice. “It might go on for a while, you’d probably be better off coming back later. Did you need to speak to Hayashi-sensei?”

Die stared past him to the office door, unable to process his question. “Did… Who was that?”

Toshiya made a face. “Don’t even worry about it.”

“What’s going on that he’s so upset about? I mean, should—Do we need to call the police or something?”

Toshiya quickly shook his head. “No, no, it’s fine. Kyo gets passionate about things, but, ah, he’s not dangerous.”

He was almost talking like this was something he’d seen happen before, which Die found rather troubling. “You know that guy?”

“Kyo?” Toshiya looked briefly confused. “Yeah, sure, of course I know him, he works here.”

Die’s eyes widened more, and if he kept that up, they might fall right out of his head. “He _works_ here?” He’d been able to imagine maybe some irate parent or something, coming to the office with a heated complaint, but a member of the _staff_ speaking to the principal like that?

“He’s the art teacher,” Toshiya said. “Have you guys seriously never met?”

Die had to think about that. He did have some vague knowledge of the art teacher, a petite, quiet type, who kept mostly to himself. It was hard to reconcile that with what he’d just witnessed in the office. “Is he—Like, won’t he probably be fired for how he was in there yelling at him?” he asked. “If he’s not already.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. It’s this whole ongoing struggle they’ve got,” Toshiya said. “Kyo has it on record that Hayashi-sensei hates him, so if he got fired he could probably sue for some kind of harassment. And besides, the principal doesn’t want to look weak, so he can’t claim Kyo is bullying him, either.”

“Is that why he—Kyo—is so angry? Because he knows Hayashi hates him?”

Toshiya pursed his lips, wobbled his head back and forth. “Kind of, but it’s a little more complicated than that.”

A pair of students walked by just then on their way to the restroom, and Toshiya gave them a smile and a wave before continuing.

“Kyo’s the art teacher, like I said, and, well, Hayashi-sensei just decided to cancel the student art gallery for the fall.”

Die frowned. “What do you mean he ‘just decided’ to cancel it? He can’t do that, they have to have meetings about it.”

“They _have_ had meetings about it,” Toshiya said. “For the last week and a half it’s been something they were arguing over, but Hayashi-sensei basically disregarded all of Kyo’s points and feelings on the subject, and went with what he wanted to do anyway.”

This was the first Die had heard about any of it, but to be fair, he was more out of the loop than the regular faculty. His part-time position, working primarily in the afternoons only a few days a week, meant he missed the majority of the morning meetings, and he was rarely consulted for his opinion on other departments' issues.

Still, it seemed like an awfully big injustice to have let just slide past _everyone_. “None of the other teachers were willing to back Kyo up?” Die asked.

“Ehh. A few did,” Toshiya said. “But no one Hayashi-sensei couldn’t easily steamroll right over. Kyo is… not exactly the most popular.”

Die huffed out a laugh, imagining the art teacher’s colorful language and thundering voice. “Can’t imagine why not.”

“He’s not a bad guy,” Toshiya said, shaking his head. “He doesn’t socialize that much, and that negatively impacts him, for sure, but if you can believe it, he’s really a… nice person.”

Die was dubious, but he generally thought Toshiya was a decent judge of character, so he decided not to dismiss his claim outright.

In all honesty, Die felt for the guy. He could understand the anger and frustration Kyo had to feel at having his event canceled like that. But didn’t it go without saying that his handling of the situation left something to be desired?

“I’m not so sure throwing a tantrum and cussing out the principal is going to get him what he wants,” Die said. “He should be more careful.”

“Yeah, well, that’s Kyo. He’s not so much the careful type.”

There was a pause, and they could hear in the quiet that Kyo was still going strong, though the words still couldn’t be distinguished. Which was lucky, considering that children might pass by at any moment.

“Anyway,” Toshiya said, nudging Die gently with is elbow. “What did you come to the office for? Did you need help with something?”

“Um…” Die struggled to remember what had brought him seeking Toshiya in the first place. “Oh! Right, yes, I was looking to get some materials to advertise for the winter recital? We’re gonna needs posters printed, plus tickets, maybe programs…”

“Do you have designs already?”

“I wanted to make sure I knew how to get this stuff before I went that far. Last year I brought it to you...?”

Toshiya nodded. “Just get me a mock-up of the design you’re using, and a list of how many of each item you need, and I can get it started for you. We’ll try to get it ready by, what, the end of this month?”

“That sounds good,” Die said. “Thanks.”

“All right. See you soon,” Toshiya said, and with a deep breath, he carefully slid the office door open and slipped back inside, closing it again before Die could catch more than a handful of choice curse words from Kyo’s continued diatribe.

Die returned to the staff room still feeling a bit shaken. Of course he’d known that people were not always happy with the principal’s decisions about things—he himself had come up against him more than once—but it was nonetheless jarring to hear someone going that hard, with such language, in an elementary school.

Sitting down at his desk, Die added a few more notes to his to-do list, and packed up his things to finish his work in the practice rooms. He had a private lesson beginning in twenty minutes, and he hoped it would be easier to concentrate in that more isolated environment. Kaoru barely seemed to notice him coming and going.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a little bit late, I feel like there's never enough time to do everything lately!  
> Thank you all for the birthday wishes, I really had a pretty good day, and I hope you all did, too!

“I think it's the rhythm that's tripping you up there,” Die said as his student fumbled over the same section for the fourth time in a row. “It’s one-y-and-a-two-y-and-a—none of those beats can be longer than that.”

His student, a third-grade boy by the name of Koji, dropped his head back. “Ugh, this is so _boring_."

“You’ve gotta get through the boring stuff if you want to play more interesting things later,” Die said with a half-smile.

“But this is like _math_ ,” Koji complained.

Die sighed. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but math and music have a lot in common. One can help you understand the other.”

“But math is boring,” Koji insisted. “Can’t we skip this part?”

Die looked at the clock uncertainly. They only had about five minutes of lesson time left. “Well… What would you like to focus on for the last few minutes of our time, then? Do you have any specific questions about anything we went over today?”

“Can you teach me, like, a cool rock solo?”

“Not in the next five minutes, no.”

“Well, can you show me _something_ I can use to show off? All this theory and chords and time signatures blah blah doesn’t give me much when I want to impress someone with my _skills_.”

Die sputtered, “Wh—Dude, you’re like eight years old! Who do you need to impress, Santa Claus?!”

Koji rolled his eyes. “For one thing, I am _nine_ years old, and for another, it’s not like I don’t have _friends_.”

“But if you learn something too complicated so early on, you know your mom is just gonna want to show you off to all her friends,” Die pointed out. “You want to become like a performing monkey for them?”

“Are you supposed to be discouraging me from learning new things and challenging myself?”

“Just giving you something to think about,” Die said.

All the same he spent a couple minutes teaching Koji a very simple finger-picking pattern, to give him something to practice at home, and that seemed to be satisfactory for the kid.

“You think I could be ready to play something with finger-picking in time for the winter concert?” Koji asked as he zipped his guitar into its soft case.

“If you really practice,” Die said. He stood, and picked up the sheet music for the piece Koji had been struggling with, flipped through the stapled pages. “Even with finger-picking though, you’ve _gotta_ get that rhythm down. _One-y-and-a-two-y—_ ”

Koji cut him off by snatching the sheet music out of his hand—ripping the front page clean off in the process.

Die gasped dramatically. "Look what you did!"

“I’m sorry!” Koji said, his eyes wide and frantic. “I didn’t mean—what’s— _you_ were the one who—!”

“And that’s why we don’t snatch things from people,” Die scolded him. He inspected the torn corner of the page. “It’s not a big deal, obviously. We just need to re-staple it.”

Koji looked around the practice room. “Do you have a stapler?”

Die looked around, too. “That is a good question. I do not know. There’s probably one around, somewhere?”

He started shuffling things around, looking under some stuff and on top of other stuff, but it quickly became apparent that there was nothing of the sort in the space. Even when they came out into the music classroom proper, all lined with glowering portraits of classical composers, there was no stapler in any of the desk drawers or cabinets.

“Now that’s just ridiculous,” Die said. “What if I need to staple something?”

“Whatever,” Koji said with a shrug. “I can just deal with it when I get home.” He opened the main compartment of his backpack and crammed all the pages in carelessly.

Die didn’t bother to disguise his vexation at such an act. He could easily tell those pages would never see the light of day again, doomed to suffer an undignified, crumpled death at the bottom of this child’s bag.

“Why don’t we just go ask someone to borrow their stapler?” he suggested loudly. “Come on, we’ve got to head downstairs anyway.” He ushered Koji out the door ahead of him, switched off all the lights in the music classroom, and locked the door. Koji was his last class of the afternoon, and he didn’t need to get back in there until the next day.

Koji waited for him, but only barely, clearly impatient to get going. They were starting out on the top floor, so they had several flights of stairs to make their way down.

“Is your mother picking you up today?” Die asked as they started walking.

Koji shook his head. “She never does. I just walk home.”

“Even carrying your instrument? It’s not kinda heavy?”

“It is, but she says I have to get used to it,” Koji said. “That in ‘real life,’ she won’t be there to drive me and my guitar around, and that if I want to play, I have to be prepared to be responsible for it.”

“Sounds like your mom’s a pretty smart lady.”

Koji was unimpressed by this assessment.

“She probably makes sure you practice every day, huh?” Die said, since Koji was one of his few students who he could tell actually did put in the work outside of class.

“I would anyway,” Koji said defensively. “She just has a rule that I have to practice for at least thirty minutes before I can play video games at all.”

“Ah, yeah, that’ll do it,” Die said, chuckling.

They were coming up on the second floor, where Die was planning on stopping by Shinya’s classroom to ask for a stapler, and he directed Koji to turn down the hall.

Up at the end of the corridor, there was a figure just disappearing into one of the classrooms, and Die was about to scold whoever it was for running around the school without a teacher after hours—when he luckily caught himself at the last second, realizing it was an adult.

Actually, it was Kyo, the art teacher. And sure enough, nearly a full week after the incident of him chewing out the principal, he seemed to be no less employed.

Die watched as he came out of his classroom again, used the sink in the hall, and went back.

“So, that’s the art room?” Die asked Koji, keeping his voice low.

“Huh?” Koji looked over distractedly. “Oh, yeah.”

“What do you, uh, think of the teacher?” Die asked, curious as to the students’ take on him.

“He’s chill,” Koji said unhelpfully. “Sometimes he lets us go outside during class, which is kinda cool.”

“Oh, to do nature sketching, like trees or something?”

“Sure, sometimes,” Koji said. “Or once, he found, like, a dead bird, and we all got to gather around and try to draw it.”

Die didn’t get a chance to properly respond to that because they’d reached Shinya’s classroom, and he had to stop and knock at the doorframe.

Fortunately, Shinya was in there, currently up on a step-ladder, hanging some students’ craft projects above the windows. He looked over his shoulder at the knock, and waved Die and Koji inside.

“What can I do for you?” he asked as he stepped down from the ladder.

“Shockingly,” Die said, “I do not have a stapler. There’s not one anywhere in the whole music room.”

All three of them dropped their gaze to the stapler still in Shinya’s hand, which he’d been using to hang the projects.

Without another word, it was handed to Die, and after digging the sheet music out of Koji’s bag, he easily reattached the torn page.

“Was that all you needed?” Shinya said skeptically.

Koji just nodded. “Thank you,” he said, bowing. He tucked the music more safely into his bag this time, and headed out on his own, not bothering to wait for Die to officially dismiss him.

Die wasn’t super concerned with that, just standing there still holding Shinya’s stapler and frowning thoughtfully.

“Um.” Shinya looked at the stapler and then shrugged. “You know what, you can keep that one. I should have a backup in one of my drawers.” He crossed to the desk at the front of the room, and started searching for an extra stapler.

“Oh, thanks,” Die said, but he still didn’t leave.

“Something else on your mind?”

“No,” Die said. “Or actually—I just happened to see that art teacher out in the hall just now.”

“Kyo?” Shinya said with a raised eyebrow. “What, did he say something to bother you?”

“He didn’t say anything to me,” Die said. He moved to lean a hip against Shinya’s desk. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to him at all.”

“That’s not so surprising,” Shinya said. “He doesn’t go out of his way to know people.”

“You know him, though?”

“Ish," Shinya said with a shrug. “His room’s pretty close to mine, as you can see. And my kids all go over there for art, although…” He shrugged again and took his backup stapler over to the step-ladder.

“Although?” Die pressed. “You don’t care for his methods?”

“It’s not for me to say,” Shinya said. “I’m sure he’s a fine artist and everything. He’s certainly creative.”

“But that doesn’t necessarily make him a good teacher,” Die said. “Not for elementary schoolers.”

“I didn’t say that,” Shinya protested. “I don’t want you to interpret this as me bad-mouthing Kyo, or saying he’s not properly equipped to do his job. That’s not how I feel about him at all, truly.”

Die didn’t know what to make of that. It wasn’t unlike Shinya to say things in a cryptic, roundabout manner, but it was always a bit harder to grasp the true meaning of his words in those situations.

“Then, is that not why you refused to back him up when the principal was deciding to cancel the art gallery?”

Shinya stopped what he was doing and gave Die a hard look. “I thought you said you’d never talked to Kyo.”

“I haven't."

“Then just what exactly have you heard, that you’re coming in here accusing me of things?”

He didn’t seem altogether _angry_ —Shinya rarely did—but there was some plain irritation in his tone that made Die prickle with guilt and embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” Die said quickly. “I didn’t mean to accuse. I just—overheard, the other day, Kyo, straight-up cussing out the principal for canceling the gallery, and setting aside the inappropriate reaction, I do understand how he would be pissed.” He turned the stapler in his hands. “Toshiya said Kyo’s unpopular, so no one took his side in the meetings.”

Shinya sighed. “That’s a serious oversimplification of things.” He stapled a few projects rather aggressively onto the wall. “Even if I disliked Kyo—which, again, I _don’t_ —it would make no sense for me to punish him by bringing down the art gallery—it’s not even _his_ art gallery, it’s the _kids’_. I’m sure they’re devastated that they won’t have a chance to display all their hard work for their families to come and admire.”

Somehow Die hadn’t really thought about what it was taking away from the actual children. “No wonder Kyo was so upset,” he mused. “So, you’re saying you were actually one of the ones supporting him?”

Shinya was quiet far too long, the loud, satisfying _SHUNK_ of the staples driving into the wall the only sound in the room.

“I don’t understand,” Die said. “You don’t hate him, you don’t want to let the kids down, but… what, you’re so unwilling to defy Hayashi?”

He knew that Shinya had long respected and admired the school’s principal. He got along with him better than most of the faculty did, and Die had occasionally thought it made Shinya especially dangerous; how could one tell where his loyalties lay?

“It’s not that,” Shinya said. “If we’d voted to save the gallery I would have been fine with that, but I’m not going to make an additional effort for something that—let’s be honest, it’s hardly _appropriate_ as a student art gallery.”

“What do you mean? How is it inappropriate?”

“Kyo is just someone who rejects norms and standards,” Shinya said. “And this isn’t exactly the kind of job where you can do that. He could stick to traditional subjects and be fine, but he encourages the kids to branch out and move away from the more conventional.”

“Koji, my student, mentioned he sometimes has let them do sketches of dead animals he found outside,” Die said, still deeply disturbed by the thought.

“And while that is creepy and macabre, it’s not quite what I mean,” Shinya said. “He just doesn’t tell anyone _no_. At previous galleries, we’ve had weird pieces touching too closely on religion or death, disturbing and grotesque images of monsters shedding their skin or devouring their enemies… It’s unsettling.”

“They can’t all be like that.”

“No, of course not,” Shinya said. “Some are heartfelt depictions of unicorns and monster trucks. It’s not any requirement that they draw something horrific.”

“Kyo just doesn’t discourage art on any subject.”

“But something like that can get him into trouble,” Shinya said. “Sure, some people are openminded and love to see creativity fostered in children—but there will always be others who can’t understand why they don’t do something more socially acceptable. What’s wrong with a nice painting of a flower, or some autumn leaves?”

Die wasn’t sure what to think. On the one hand, he could certainly see Shinya’s perspective, that those unconventional art subjects were more controversial and thus difficult to get away with in a student gallery, but he could understand Kyo’s not wanting to stifle any child’s creativity as well. When all of society and one’s entire adult life was all about conforming and remaining “appropriate,” what was the harm in letting students express themselves freely while they could?

He may not have had any clout, but Die was of the mind that, had he gone to those meetings, he would have spoken up in Kyo’s favor. Most likely, it wouldn’t have done much good, but as a fellow artist, he really got Kyo’s feelings, even if he still thought it was weird to let elementary schoolers gather around and sketch a dead bird.

Shinya interrupted his thoughts by asking, “Have you ever actually seen any of his art?”

“Um,” Die said, trying to remember. “I know I’ve been to a couple of the art galleries in the past…”

Shinya shook his head. “I don’t mean his _classes_ ’ art, I mean Kyo’s work, outside of teaching kids.”

For some reason, the question sent a shiver down Die’s spine. He could say with more certainty that he had never seen Kyo’s personal or professional artwork, but recently he was more intrigued and curious about it with every passing day. It was hard for him to make any educated guess as to what it would be like, given that he honestly didn’t know Kyo, even a little bit.

“You should look it up,” Shinya recommended.

“How would I even go about doing that?”

“He has a few binders—copies of his old work—in the art room,” Shinya said. “I guess he uses them sometimes for educational purposes, but he keeps them in a latched cabinet behind the desk so the kids can’t get into them unsupervised. They’re very weird.”

“Weird?”

“The art,” Shinya clarified. “It’s weird and depressing, and sort of haunting. I don’t like thinking about it.”

“Why did you even look at it in the first place?” Die asked, baffled by Shinya’s continued negativity towards Kyo and his work. If he didn’t like something, wasn’t it easy enough to just not interact with it?

“In the beginning it had seemed like we might become friends,” Shinya said. “Or, at least, it seemed that way to _me_. I didn’t realize at that time that Kyo isn’t someone who _has_ friends. I asked to see his art, and he showed me.”

“Well, sure, and if you reacted so hatefully no wonder you didn’t end up being friends,” Die said.

Shinya looked wounded by his words. “I’m not being hateful. And I wasn’t hateful towards Kyo, at any point. Even if we’re not friends now, that doesn’t mean we’re enemies. We just don’t have any strong relationship to speak of. I do appreciate that he cleans up after himself, doesn’t let his classes leave the sinks a mess, like the last art teacher did. He’s just a difficult person to get close to.”

Somehow Die felt skeptical, and if anything, his determination to form a friendship with Kyo was strengthened.

He bade Shinya farewell for the afternoon, and walked out into the hall, but he found the art classroom closed up and dark. Apparently Kyo had already left without Die noticing.

Die had the passing thought that he hoped Kyo hadn’t overheard anything he and Shinya had been saying about him, but he didn’t spend much time worrying about it. Based on how Kyo had spoken to the principal, Die reasoned he wasn’t especially afraid of confrontation, and if he’d taken offense at something they’d said, they’d have most likely heard about it right then and there.

He carried the stapler Shinya had given him back up the stairs to the music room, and stowed it safely in a drawer for future use, then closed the room back up, and locked the door, before trudging back down to the ground level and his car, letting his mind drift idly to his other concerns.

He would need to come in early the following day to make some copies before class, he had to double-check his calendar for times he could open up to new private lessons, and he probably ought to make it to the grocery store sometime this week.

There was a lot on his mind, and yet Kyo, this total stranger, didn’t stray far from his thoughts. He’d have to find a way to have a conversation with him, sometime in the near future.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been two weeks since Die had given Toshiya the mock-ups for the promotional materials to be made, and he still hadn’t received so much as a poster.

He felt bad for pestering him, but still he knocked politely as he let himself into the administrative office and gave Toshiya a hopeful look.

“Any word?”

Toshiya shook his head apologetically. “I’m so sorry, I know I said I’d have them for you by Monday.”

“Yeah,” Die said, carefully trying to keep from sounding impatient. It was Friday, though, and he was starting to run out of time for effective advertising. “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “I don’t blame you, of course. The printing service is just backed up this time of year…? Did they happen to give you an estimate for when it would be finished?”

Toshiya’s face only grew more regretful.

"What's wrong?” Die asked warily. “Is—was there a problem with the design? If I need to make some revisions…"

“That’s not the issue," Toshiya said. “Please believe me that I _meant_ to take them in.”

“Wait, what? Are you saying you never even _started_ the process of getting the materials printed?”

“I _wanted_ to,” Toshiya insisted. “I even had it on my list of errands to run, but I just—haven’t had a chance.”

Die stared at him in disbelief. “How could you have not had a chance? It’s been two full _weeks!_ ”

“Hayashi-sensei—well, he’s just had me really busy. He’s asked me to prioritize all these other tasks, and I couldn’t very well tell him _no_.”

Die couldn’t agree with that. He was sure if he’d been in the same position he would have argued, or at the very least, taken the mock-ups in on his lunch break, in his own free time. But he supposed it was easier for him to say that, not actually being in that position.

“So, what do you suggest I do at this point?” he asked. “Can I just take them in myself, get reimbursed?”

Toshiya grimaced. “I had given the designs to Hayashi-sensei to get his final approval, and he never returned them to me. I don’t know that he ever officially approved them. And—he’s already left for the weekend.”

“Are you kidding me?” Die huffed impatiently. “I guess I can just get another copy and take it, then.”

“You could,” Toshiya said. “But without the principal’s approval, you probably wouldn’t be able to get reimbursed for whatever you have to pay. I’m… really sorry.”

Die waved him off. Even with the convenience of his physical presence, it didn’t make sense to take out his frustration on _Toshiya_. He just needed to find a solution.

He weighed his options. The out-of-pocket costs for getting posters printed would probably be a little more than he could handle comfortably. If only he’d planned for this possibility, set some money aside…

“Is there anything I can do?” Toshiya asked, and he looked so sad and remorseful that Die really felt bad for how short he’d been with him.

“I’ll figure something out,” he mumbled. “Thanks for the update.”

With that, he saw himself out of the office, and started back down the hall, still trying to work out what he could do to solve his problem.

Maybe they could do with cheaper materials. Obviously they needed to advertise the recital with more than just a reminder in the parent newsletter, but if they couldn’t get professionally-made posters… Die’s home printer wasn’t reliable enough for the necessary quantities, but if he could make copies there at the school, it would at least be _something_.

They’d be more like _flyers_ , and sure, Die had hoped for something a little bigger, more eye-catching, but it wasn’t like he had time to hand-make the posters himself. He couldn’t afford to spend the class time having his students do it, either, even if they _did_ have the artistic prowess for it, which was another whole—

There was _one_ class where working on art projects wouldn’t be seen as a misuse of time.

Die marched right past the staff room and up the stairs to the second floor. Shinya wasn’t in his classroom this afternoon, and the only sound was the music playing from the art room at the end of the hall.

There was something nervous in Die’s gut as he approached. He knocked, so as not to catch Kyo by surprise as he sat on top of the desk at the front of the room hole-punching some art projects.

“Hey there,” Die called.

Kyo looked blankly at him.

“Mind if I come in and talk to you for a minute?”

“Knock yourself out,” Kyo said. He reached one hand over to the speaker playing music, and turned it down, but not off, then looked back down at his work.

“I’m, um—Well, first of all, nice to meet you,” Die said awkwardly, stepping into the room. It was decorated with students’ artwork, but in a drastically different way than, for example, Shinya’s classroom. Here, the pieces went together to form unified shapes, while remaining independent, and almost no surface was left bare. Clearing his throat, Die tried to refocus his attention on the man before him. “So. Yes. I’m Die.”

“I know,” Kyo said, evidently unimpressed. “The music teacher.”

“That’s right,” Die said. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was about Kyo that was making him so nervous.

“So did you just stop by for a friendly greeting, or was there something on your mind?” Kyo asked, dark eyes flicking up to Die again.

“Um, yeah, just… I heard, about the student art gallery,” Die began uncertainly.

Kyo grunted.

“I think—It’s a great injustice,” Die went on. “They really did you dirty, I was sorry to hear that.”

“Makes two of us.”

“So I was—I had the thought, what if we—collaborated?”

Kyo’s eyes narrowed. “Collaborated how?”

“Like maybe—As you may know, my music students have their winter concert next month, and we could really use some posters, promotional materials, you know?” Die was speaking more quickly now, starting to worry that Kyo would shut him down before he got all his words out. “I was thinking, what if we worked together? Your art classes could be in charge of designing and producing the posters for the concert?”

A long pause followed, and Die felt his hopeful smile slipping the longer it dragged on.

Eventually, Kyo set aside the paper craft and hole-puncher he’d been working with, and gave Die his full attention. “In your mind, that’s a collaboration?” He raised an eyebrow. “You just want us to do it for you. Where’s the collaborative part?”

“I…” Die could hardly deny that he wanted to pass the responsibility off onto someone else, but he didn’t see it as 100% one-sided. “At least your classes’ art would be displayed all over the place, leading up to the concert.”

“‘My classes’ art,’” Kyo repeated skeptically. “Advertising _your_ concert. You want _informational_ posters, not creative expression.”

“So, then… you’re not interested.”

Kyo’s tongue peeked out between his lips, and he leaned back on his hands. “I’ll consider it.”

“Okay,” Die said, taking a step backwards. “Then, I guess. Let me know what you decide. And thank you for thinking about it.”

Kyo cocked his head to one side. “You’re welcome.”

Die got the feeling that every minute he spent standing there made Kyo like him less, so he made sure not to linger unnecessarily, and walked briskly, but without hurrying, out of the art room.

Unfortunately, Die could not really claim that that had gone well. His fantasies of being the one to build a friendship with Kyo were fading before his eyes. Despite what Shinya had told him, Die hadn’t expected Kyo to be quite so—unwelcoming.

It wasn’t that he’d been rude, or aggressive, but still Die had been left with the impression that Kyo didn’t _like_ him very much. He couldn’t imagine why; as far as Die could remember, they’d never even met before, outside of perhaps some perfunctory introduction back when Die had first started at the school. Had he forgotten about some reason Kyo might have to hold a grudge, or was that just how he was with everyone?

All the same, it hadn’t been a _complete_ bust. At least Kyo had said he would consider it, and there wasn’t much more than that that Die could ask for.

He was accosted by one of the other teachers, Nero, practically the moment he walked back into the staff room.

“Die, you already paid for tonight’s nomikai, right?”

"Nomikai..." He was unprepared for the sudden question, and had to think for a few seconds before answering. "Ye-es, yes, I did. Shit, that’s tonight?”

Nero made a face. “You forgot. Did you make other plans??”

“Well, no,” Die admitted. “I just hadn’t kept track of the date very well, and didn’t realize it was already time for it. It should be fine.”

“You remember there’s another one on Wednesday, though?” Nero said, flipping through the calendar on his phone. “That’s just the upper grades' teachers' one.”

“Right, I have it marked on my schedule,” Die said, suppressing a sigh. As a teacher who worked with all grade levels, he ended up having to attend more parties than the average faculty, and it was, on occasion, more exhausting than it was fun.

He sat heavily at his desk, and Kaoru gave him a kind of commiserating look.

“’Tis the season, eh?”

“All these parties really take their toll on my wallet, you know,” Die said, rubbing at his forehead.

“No one would blame you if you skipped out on one or two,” Kaoru said quietly. “If you’re not feeling up for it, you should take care of yourself and go home.”

“I don’t wanna be That Guy,” Die said. “It helps us work better together as a team to have this time bonding after hours.”

“Once again, I remind you,” Kaoru said, “that you’re not even full-time. You shouldn’t feel the same sense of obligation the rest of us do to go to these things.”

“I know,” Die said. He leaned his chin on his fist. “The way you talk I’d almost think you don’t want me there or something.”

Kaoru frowned. “Of course I enjoy your company. I just know that I personally feel these parties are something I can’t get out of. If I could get away with skipping, spending that time with my wife and kids instead, I’d take the chance in a heartbeat. You have that chance.”

“No wife and kids, though,” Die said with a shrug. He watched as Nero approached Shinya at his desk a little ways away, idly eavesdropped on their exchange.

“I know you had been on the fence about attending,” Nero was saying. “Did you decide? You know you could bring a guest, if that would make things easier…”

Shinya shook his head. “I was able to reschedule my other plans, so yes, I’ll be there tonight. I gave Mori-sensei my money earlier this week.”

“Oh, perfect!” Nero made a note on his phone. “And are you going to be driving, or will you need a ride to the restaurant?”

“I think I’ll be driving tonight…”

“It always comes back to that with you,” Kaoru said, effectively cutting off Die’s nosiness.

“What always comes back to what with me?” Die asked.

“You’re young and single so you think you don’t need to plan for the future, don’t need to look after yourself.”

“Or you could argue that my attending these parties _is_ a form of planning for the future,” Die countered. “I’m _networking_ , giving attention to my image, my working relationships.”

Kaoru nodded grimly. “You know I just want to look out for you.”

Die nodded, too. He appreciated Kaoru’s concern, truly. Ever since he’d started at this school, Kaoru had mentored and supported him. Maybe he’d felt responsible based on their desk placement. Whatever the case, Die knew he could count on Kaoru to want what was best for him, and that inevitably meant worrying about him from time to time. Maybe more often than not.

For some reason, when they finally went to the restaurant for the party, Die was still distracted thinking about what he’d overheard Shinya saying to Nero. It was unusual for Shinya to drive, especially when it precluded him drinking. Add to that that he’d been offered the option of bringing a guest with him and Die was wondering whether Shinya’s parents were perhaps in town for a visit, as they sometimes were.

He’d never met Shinya’s parents, but from Die’s understanding, he had a much better relationship with them than the somewhat rocky one Die had with his own. Die’s parents hadn’t been to visit him even once since he’d moved here, but he supposed that was often the case when children didn’t follow the exact path their parents wanted for them; part-time elementary school music teacher might not have been quite what his parents had had in mind raising him.

Die was lucky to be able to snag a seat at the long table next to Shinya, with a couple of older female teachers across from them, who seemed intent on drinking the week’s stress away without slowing down. On Die’s other side was Saito, whom Die knew mostly as a friend of Kaoru’s, and who tended to keep to himself.

“So, you’ve, ah, got houseguests?” Die said to Shinya, his tone casual, though he meant to also show himself as available, should Shinya need to vent about his familial goings-on.

But Shinya turned to look at him sharply. “Are you speaking to me?”

“Um.” Die thought it was pretty obvious that he was, but he nodded. “I thought—Do you not…?”

“What made you think so?” Shinya asked suspiciously.

Surely it would sound bad to admit that he’d been listening in when Shinya had mentioned it to Nero. “Maybe I was thinking of someone else,” Die said, and took a drink. “I’m sure _someone_ had recently said something about having houseguests.”

“Hmm.” Shinya looked around. “It could have been Toshiya,” he suggested. “You two talk often, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” Die said. Toshiya wasn’t there and couldn’t get Die caught in his flimsy lie.

“Why didn’t Toshiya-kun come tonight?” one of the women across the table asked, clearly far more shameless than Die about her eavesdropping habits. “He knows that he’s always welcome, doesn’t he?”

The woman beside her was Mori-sensei, who had been collecting the money from everyone, and made the restaurant reservations for the party. “The poor boy has been overwhelmed with work, I think. Looked like he was coming down with a cold when I saw him earlier.”

Die hadn’t particularly noticed Toshiya seeming under the weather when he’d spoken to him that afternoon, but he wouldn’t deny that he was overworked. With his position as the school secretary, tasks from departments all over the school fell to him, and it was no secret that the principal tended to come down on Toshiya the hardest, just because he relied on him the most.

“Hmph,” the first woman sniffed. “At least he has a valid reason for missing it, instead of just rudely passing up an invitation like _some_ people.”

_And this is exactly why I feel obligated to attend these things_ , Die thought. He didn’t really need to ask who they meant. He was perfectly aware of who he didn’t see there, who he couldn’t recall _ever_ having seen at such an event in all his years of going.

Lowering his voice, Die asked Shinya, “Do you know if Kyo is even actively invited to these parties?”

Apparently he didn’t lower his voice _enough_ , because Mori-sensei snapped, “Of course he is! We would never deliberately exclude any member of the faculty, even one as maladjusted and socially incompetent as _him_.”

Die hardly knew what to say to that.

“I told you before,” Shinya said calmly, “Kyo doesn’t have friends. This is part of the reason for that. He _always_ opts out of social bonding events with his colleagues, heedless of how that can be seen as a sign of disrespect.”

“As if he doesn’t _intend_ it as a sign of disrespect,” the first woman said. “He knows exactly the message he’s sending.”

Die jumped as Saito spoke up beside him, “Being antisocial doesn’t necessarily mean he’s intentionally disrespectful. I’ve always just seen him as someone who doesn’t work well with others. He’s more independent.”

Both women seemed offended by the mere idea.

“Were you hoping he would be here?” Shinya asked Die. “So you could prove me wrong, become his very best friend?”

Die frowned. “I don’t see why that’s something you need to mock.”

At least Shinya looked a little bit remorseful. “I didn’t mean it mockingly. I just hoped maybe you’d learned by now that a notion like that isn’t entirely realistic. And that you’d judged me sort of unfairly for my opinion of Kyo.”

“It’s true that I don’t know him,” Die said. “Even speaking to him today, I found it difficult to get a good feel for him, so no, I can’t really say anything about the opinion _you’ve_ formed, based on more extensive interaction. But I’m also not going to accept your opinion of him as the Only one, or let it discourage me from getting to know him better.”

Die couldn't say exactly why he felt the need to be so stubborn about it. Generally speaking, he trusted Shinya’s opinion above almost all others, and if there was someone Shinya said to steer clear of, Die heeded his advice.

Somehow though there was something different about Kyo. He might not have been winning any personality contests, and Die wasn’t sure he approved of his teaching methods, but he wanted to know more about him. Maybe it was still partly that he felt for him, could sympathize with the struggle of teaching what was seen as a nonessential subject. Maybe it was partly respect for the fact that, whatever else was true about him, at least Kyo seemed to be honest.

Looking around the table at his coworkers, drinking chatting, enjoying themselves, Die felt a strange, deep-seated conflict inside himself. Many of these people he’d known for years, considered friends, and yet it was more of a challenge to say which of them were honest. People might say one thing to his face and another when his back was turned. As a result, Die wasn’t the most trusting person.

Even Shinya, there beside him, whom Die liked so much, and was prone to trusting, had secrets he kept from him.

And that was fine. Shinya didn’t owe him that kind of thing. Die was perfectly willing to be in on only as much as Shinya felt like sharing.

He tried to keep that in mind as the conversation topic shifted away from Kyo and the tension fizzled away from the table. It was a party, time Die could spend with his friends and colleagues, and there was no reason why he shouldn't be able to enjoy it.


	5. Chapter 5

Die made sure to be extra friendly to Toshiya in the aftermath of his irritation with him, to let him know he wasn’t harboring any bad feelings about the whole poster business.

“How’s your afternoon going?” he asked cheerfully as he headed for his mailbox against one wall of the administrative office.

“Die!” Toshiya straightened up at his desk. “Just the man I wanted to see!”

“When am I not?” Die joked. He pulled a few papers out of his box, flipped through them. There was a reminder about the library book sale, a notice about another upcoming nomikai, and a copy of a registration form with a post-it note, informing Die that he had a new student signed up for private guitar lessons starting Friday.

“I need your help,” Toshiya said, and when Die glanced up, he looked close to desperate.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, eyeing the file Toshiya was clutching in both hands.

“Well, it’s a new first-grader,” Toshiya said, still seeming nervous, “a transfer student, and the thing is—he doesn’t speak Japanese.”

Die’s eyebrows rose. “What, no Japanese at all?”

Toshiya shook his head. “Very little. His mother is American, and up until just recently, they’d lived in the US. They came here for his father’s work, but I think it’s… more of an adjustment for him than they truly anticipated.”

“How do you mean?”

“He is… struggling,” Toshiya said sadly. “He can’t express himself, and he’s got so much _anger_. He ends up causing a lot of disruptions in class. Shinya hasn’t mentioned it?”

“He’s in Shinya’s class?” Die said, frowning. He hadn’t heard anything about the situation from his friend, but it was also true that they hadn’t been talking as much recently.

“He started just last week,” Toshiya said. “And he’s already been sent here with a call home to his parents twice.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” Die asked skeptically. “I’m not some kind of child psychologist, I can’t really help him with his frustrations with being an outsider.”

“No, but you might be able to help him communicate,” Toshiya said. “You have more experience speaking English than most of our other faculty.”

For one thing, if true, Die found that to be rather sad. He’d only spend a semester abroad back in his university days; that hardly made him some kind of English expert.

More than that, though, “I’m just a music teacher,” Die said. “What he needs is probably some kind of one-on-one tutor, someone who can really work with him. I’m not qualified.”

“But you’re used to teaching children one-on-one,” Toshiya pointed out. “And if you could just work with him, maybe a few times a week…” He sighed. “The truth is, your name came up as soon as we started looking for some assistance for him. Even without your English skills, it’s no secret that you’re one of the best-liked teachers in the whole school.”

Die folded his arms over his chest. “That’s just because music is more fun than math and history.”

“Not for everyone,” Toshiya said. “That’s not the only reason the kids like you.”

“What, you’re gonna say it’s also because I’m ‘easy,’ right? I’m soft?”

Toshiya frowned. “I was just going to say it’s because you take the time to learn your students and their individual needs, rather than taking a one-size-fits-all approach. You really _listen_ to the kids, and they’re comfortable with you. That’s what Freddy needs.”

_Damn it_ , now the kid had name. That made him harder to refuse.

Reluctantly, Die took a step toward Toshiya’s desk. “Well… When do you want me to meet with him?”

“Thursday morning, if you’re able?” Toshiya said, not at all managing to keep the hopefulness out of his tone.

“Is that file for me to take?” Die asked, and held out a hand.

Toshiya passed over the file, bowing his head. “Thank you so much. You don’t know what a great help you are. I’m sure Shinya will really appreciate it, too. I’ll inform him that you’ll be meeting on Thursday, and we’ll settle on a regular schedule from there.”

Die flipped the folder open, giving the top informational page a quick once-over as he nodded in vague reply to Toshiya’s gratitude. He wandered out of the office without really looking up from the papers in front of him.

He learned that Freddy was six years old, and spoke primarily English at home, although according to his paperwork, both his parents were capable of speaking Japanese. He was an active child, and tested well, but often had difficulty focusing in the classroom, and wasn’t having much success interacting socially with his peers because he couldn’t communicate well, and was treated as an outsider.

It was a sad story, and one that Die could relate to, in many ways. He’d had his own moments of feeling like he didn’t belong, and if there was anything he could do to make this child’s difficult transition to Japanese culture a little easier, he decided he just _had_ to try.

He went on studying the file, reading past behavior reports and looking at potential lesson plans for the rest of the morning.

Kaoru only glanced at the papers spread on the desk when he came into the staff room at lunch recess. “That all for that foreign kid?”

“Um. Yeah,” Die said. “I’m gonna try working with him.”

Kaoru scoffed. "I can’t believe you agreed to that.”

Die blinked at him, confused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because teaching some American kid with behavior problems how to function in Japanese society is _not_ part of your job description,” Kaoru said. “Can’t you see that they’re just taking advantage of you? This isn’t what you were hired to do.”

Despite its being basically the same argument Die had been having with Toshiya, hearing it from Kaoru only made Die feel defensive.

“It’s not taking advantage,” Die said. “This boy needs _help_ —”

“Oh, so you offered, all on your own.”

“Well, no, but—”

“Because they _knew_ you’d be willing to do it, that you wouldn’t say ‘no’ when it came to helping a child.”

Die looked at him in disbelief. “And you _would_?”

“I have my own kids to worry about,” Kaoru said. “ _And_ my own class. If they want to add to my responsibilities, outside of what I signed on for, I had better see an increase in my pay to go with it. I don’t suppose you leaned on them for a raise?”

“I only talked to Toshiya,” Die said. “I don’t think he really has the authority to—“

“And our dear principal had probably conveniently stepped out, just before that conversation, hm?”

“I don’t know,” Die admitted. “I honestly didn’t even ask.” He watched as Kaoru moved around the room, used the electric kettle to heat some water for his tea. When he returned to his desk, Die said, “Anyway, it’s not really any trouble for me. I’m happy to help.”

“It’s not any trouble?” Kaoru echoed skeptically. “You mean you’re not busy with your current workload, trying to get all your preparations in order for the winter concert?”

Die scowled. Of course Kaoru knew that he’d been working his rear end off, scrambling to get everything ready, but Die still didn’t see this new assignment as being something that would take away from his other work.

“You know,” he said, “it would be nice if sometime, just for a change, you tried actually supporting or encouraging me, instead of only telling me how I’m doing every single thing wrong.”

That got him a startled, guilty look. “That’s not—I’m not trying to be— _critical_ , I just. I’m sorry,” Kaoru said.

Die shrugged. “It’s whatever. But when I’m taking on new projects, I don’t really need you talking all this shit at me every time.”

Kaoru nodded soberly, and didn’t say anything more to disrupt Die’s perusal of Freddy’s file.

Some cranky feeling still crawled over Die’s skin. Clearly Kaoru was of the opinion that Die had been asked to take on this work for the very reason he’d been afraid of: because everyone thought he was _weak_ , spineless, easy to manipulate. He liked being a nice person, but he wasn’t into the idea that the impression he gave off was that he could be taken advantage of.

This concern haunted him through his afternoon classes, and when he saw Shinya it took a serious amount of willpower to not accost him and demand answers—why hadn’t Shinya ever mentioned this difficult child? Why hadn’t he approached Die directly if he wanted his help? Was Die only the best option for the job because he had no backbone?

With the work that still needed to be done, though, Die couldn’t afford to go off-task in the middle of class. He had the second-graders sing through their repertoire of holiday music, spending a little extra time focusing on English pronunciation, and spent any remaining class time on recorder work.

It went by quickly, perhaps only moreso with how distracted Die was with his other troubles, and he only barely managed to catch Shinya as he was leaving.

“I know you have to get back to your class,” he said quickly, “but would you have any time later?”

“How much later?”

“I have three lessons after school,” Die said. “We could get dinner when I’m finished? I wanted to talk about your student, Freddy…?”

Shinya’s expression softened—though Die hadn’t even noticed that it had been guarded before then. “Yes, that is rather important, isn’t it? How about Royal Host, around seven?”

“Works for me,” Die said. “Thanks.”

Knowing that he could get some of his questions answered that evening made Die’s sixth grade class easier to get through. That was lucky since they were all his chatterboxes, eager to latch onto any distraction that presented itself.

“So, my mom just got a new smartphone,” Sawa announced as they were all still setting up.

“How nice for her,” Die commented drily.

“And how nice for _me_ ,” Sawa said, as if it was the obvious part of her original statement. “I get to keep her old one.”

Her friend beside her laughed. “Oh my god, are you saying you didn’t have a phone until _now_?”

“I had one!” Sawa was quick to defend. “Duh, of course I had one. It was just super old. Now I have my mom’s iPhone 7 Plus.”

“That’s still pretty old,” a boy sitting behind her interjected.

She huffed in annoyance, and quit bragging, leaving Die grateful that he didn’t have to come up with some way to get her quiet before he could start class.

"Okay, we have a lot of holiday music to get through," Die said, not giving anyone else a chance to seize the spotlight. “But first, I’m going to be collecting your theory homework from last week. Did anyone run into any problems with it, were there any questions?”

Sawa’s friend raised her hand.

“Yes, Hikari?”

“Did you and Terachi-sensei go out to dinner last weekend?”

Die let out a deep sigh. “I meant questions about the _homework_.”

“Obviously,” Hikari said, “but my cousin—she goes to a school on the other side of town, but she _used_ to go here, so she knows Terachi-sensei—she said she saw him at a restaurant with someone, and _I_ said, I bet it was you. Am I right?”

It was so much so fast that it took Die a minute to fully process the question. “This past weekend?” He shook his head. “We both went to a work party on Friday, but—“

“No, she definitely said Saturday,” Hikari cut him off. “Are you sure you guys didn’t go somewhere together?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Die said. “But—well, Terachi-sensei has a lot of friends, so it doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Hikari seemed dissatisfied with that answer. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I mean, my cousin definitely made it sound like it was—a more _romantic_ dinner, you know?”

Die was careful not to react to that, to the odd, twisting feeling the words put in his stomach. “As I told you all before, Shinya— _Terachi-sensei_ and I are not romantically involved, either. We’re just friends.”

“Then who was he out with??”

“I really don’t know the details of his social calendar,” Die said. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t pass that information on to you. What he does in his personal time isn’t any of your business. Or your cousin’s.”

Hikari clearly still wanted to argue, but Die stopped her by clearing his throat loudly.

“No one had any issues with the homework then?” he said, looking around at the class. “Great! Make sure you leave it on top of the piano for me, and that your name is on it. We’ll start with ‘Joy to the World’ today.”

By some miracle, Die was able to suppress any further interruptions during the class. Maybe he was really getting better at intimidating the students with a few simple movements of his eyebrows.

He was relieved, too, that he didn’t have a private lesson with Hikari after school today, because he was sure she’d want to keep grilling him about his relationship—friendship—with Shinya, and he by no means wanted to bring up the fact that he was planning on having dinner with him that very evening.

Now though he had yet another question for Shinya. Had he really been spotted having a romantic dinner on the weekend? Die hadn’t heard anything about him seeing someone new. Maybe that wasn’t the kind of thing Shinya would share with him, though, and in that case, it could be out of line for Die to ask anything about it. It wasn’t his business any more than it was Hikari’s, really, was it?

After making it through his one-on-one lessons on autopilot, Die went to the family restaurant where he was supposed to meet Shinya, and only remembered as he was getting out of the car that he had a whole file full of notes and concerns about the new student he was meant to take on.

Unsurprisingly, Shinya had beaten him there, and was waiting at a booth along the front side of the restaurant, messing around on his phone.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Die teased as he came to sit down.

“You are,” Shinya replied flatly. “I was just about to get the high score. But I’ll forgive you just this once.”

“Thanks.” Die slid into his seat and set the file down on the table. “Were you waiting long?”

Shinya shook his head. “You actually got here faster than I expected. Lessons all went okay?”

“Sure, sure,” Die said. “You haven’t ordered yet?”

“No, not yet.”

They called the server over and put in their orders before Die pulled Freddy’s file in front of him, and considered how he wanted to begin.

Shinya beat him to the punch. “I’m so relieved that you’re willing to work with Freddy-kun. I’ve been at a kind of loss.”

“Of course I’m willing to help,” Die said. “I just don’t know why you didn’t come to me in the first place, if you thought I’d be the right person for the job.”

“I didn’t know if you were available,” Shinya said, his gaze wandering over the restaurant. “We’re all aware of how preoccupied you’ve been with the recital and everything.”

“Toshiya said my name came up pretty early on, though.”

“It did,” Shinya said, nodding. “Freddy is—well, skittish. Any of those teachers who are a little quicker to judge would only move him to shut down, push them away. He needs someone who’s more open-minded, so you’re the first person I thought of.”

Die smiled at that. It was nice to think he’d been recruited based on his positive characteristics.

“Add to that the fact that you’re more willing to and capable of speaking English than just about anyone I know, and you were the natural choice,” Shinya said. “I’m glad to have you as an ally in determining the best course of action for dealing with him.”

“I’ve read his file… Seems like he’s been causing a lot of problems.”

“It’s not—” Shinya paused, thinking. “I don’t think he’s making problems _deliberately_. I really don’t think he’s a _bad kid_.”

“Of course not, he’s only six years old.”

"Right, but some of them, you can tell, they're just. Not nice little people," Shinya said. “Some kids are spoiled or entitled, or just bullies. I don’t think Freddy is any of those.”

“What’s your take on him then?"

“He’s— _defensive_ ,” Shinya said. “And he needs a lot of attention. I think… His mother tries really hard to be there for him, she cares for him a lot, but she works. His father, too, works, and his job takes him on business trips quite often.”

None of that sounded particularly unusual to Die. Especially these days it was more common for both parents to work, and that didn’t cause behavior problems in all the other children Freddy’s age.

“He’s clever, but it's hard for him because everyone else already knows things he’s just learning. Having lived in the US most of his life, he’s had different experiences, and missed out on most of the material his classmates studied last year,” Shinya continued. “So he gets defensive, quick to anger when he’s misunderstood, and reacts impulsively instead of seeking an appropriate solution.”

It struck Die as rather funny that this was analysis that even needed to be done. Didn’t it go without saying that first graders were more likely to react impulsively than to seek an “appropriate solution”?

“I think he struggles to process things in the typical way,” Shinya said. “Of course I know he doesn’t understand a lot of Japanese, but he does understand the word, ‘stop,’ he just can’t seem to stay in control long enough to _listen_ to it.”

Their food came to the table and they both thanked the server before turning their attention to their meals.

“So,” Die said, “just to be clear, you’re suggesting he may have some learning disability, or…? Something that—weakens his ability to effectively process information?”

“I’m not a doctor,” Shinya said with a shrug. “But I don’t believe that he’s ignoring what he’s told so much as that he just can’t help his reaction to it.”

Die chewed his food thoughtfully, feeling a little less sure. “If that’s the case, shouldn’t he meet with the school counselor, maybe see about getting tested for these things? How is a music teacher supposed to help him?”

“Ideally, he’d meet with both you _and_ a counselor,” Shinya said. “It’s harder though to get his parents onboard with that. And, like I told you, he’s sort of fragile. I think it’d be better for him to build up some trust, work on his communication skills, and see if, as a team, we can work through whatever his blocks are. Because it doesn’t feel right to me to just keep _punishing_ him.”

Die could agree with that much, and he liked the idea of being part of a team, working together, sharing information to help a struggling child succeed.

They went on talking throughout their meal, Shinya going into more detail about the incidents mentioned in Freddy’s file. It was perhaps the least romantic dinner they’d ever had together, and the thought crossed Die’s mind, how no one could possibly mistake them for a couple in that moment. He kept his mouth shut to any questions about who else Shinya had been having dinner with recently, and listened to the facts about Freddy and his behavior.

By the time they were finished and heading for home, Die could hardly believe he’d never heard of the boy before that morning. All there was left to do was meet Freddy in person.


	6. Chapter 6

Die patted his cheek a few times, trying to keep himself awake.

Fuck, whose bright idea had it been to have a nomikai on a Wednesday night?

He hadn’t even had all that much to drink—he’d been careful to pace himself, knowing that he’d have to teach the next morning, but he was still exhausted, and couldn’t stop himself from doing the math in his head, calculating how many hours he had left before he could return to the comfort of his bed.

“Die, you ready to go pull Freddy out of his class?” Toshiya asked, appearing next to Die’s desk. The fact that he truly hadn’t noticed him approaching just spoke to Die’s lack of proper brain function.

Maybe this was a bad idea. He was too tired; he wouldn’t be able to give this child his full attention, his best work. Maybe it wasn’t too late to cancel the meeting, or at least reschedule…

“Die?” Toshiya said again, more concern in his voice now. “You okay?”

Die looked up at him, blinking several times to remind his eyes to stay open. “Yeah!” he said, his voice coming out a little too high. He couldn’t let down everyone else involved just because he was sleepy and a coward. “Sorry, tired, but yes, let’s go.”

The walk to Shinya’s classroom was familiar and short, and in no time at all, they were there, knocking at the door, and requesting to borrow Freddy Matsuda.

A small, nervous-looking boy with fluffy dark hair stood hesitantly from his desk, and moved to the door.

They led him down the hall to a smaller classroom, not currently in use, and Toshiya made all the necessary introductions. Freddy’s wide eyes moved back and forth between him and Die throughout, revealing very little emotion.

“So, then…” Toshiya said, taking a few steps backwards. “I’ll leave you to get acquainted.” He reminded Die to return Freddy to Shinya’s class in thirty minutes, and excused himself from the room.

Freddy just went on staring at Die, looking completely terrified, and Die hoped the expression wasn’t too obviously mirrored on his own face.

Of course Die had no reason to be nervous. It was easy to understand why Freddy might be freaked out, but Die worked with kids every day, and there was nothing more intimidating about this one than the average six-year-old.

Taking a deep breath and offering his best smile, Die greeted the boy in English, “Good morning, Freddy. My name is Mr. Andou, and I’m going to be helping you with some things. Does that sound okay?”

Freddy’s eyes were much wider as he said, “You speak English!”

“Just a little,” Die admitted. “But I’d like to help you practice your Japanese, too.”

Freddy nodded eagerly, and Die could have sighed with relief. It would be much easier to tutor someone who wasn’t resisting.

The first session was very simple and passed quickly. Die learned about Freddy, things he couldn’t get from a file, like his interests and his frustrations. The child had a lot of energy and it was difficult to keep him focused, but he wasn’t by any means the wildest student Die had ever had, and at least they weren’t working with any expensive, breakable musical instruments.

Honestly, it felt good for Die to get to flex some of his skills that he didn’t use as often, and he found he quite liked Freddy as a person. He was a smart kid, and very funny, and had a genuine desire to be helpful.

Actually, that might have been the biggest problem Die encountered with him. Several times, Freddy tried insistently to _help_ Die, whether to snatch his phone from him to look something up, to climb up the room’s shelves to open the window, or to erase what Die had written on the blackboard at the end of their session. It was obvious that he was doing it to help, and not to make trouble, but he wasn’t so mindful of the reasons he shouldn’t be doing these things, and although he seemed to _acknowledge_ Die's commands for him to stop, he never heeded them.

Die could only imagine how frustrating it had to be in a class with twenty-five other children.

When half an hour was up, Die ushered Freddy out to return him to his regular class, promising that he would see him again soon.

“You’ll meet with me again, like today?” Freddy asked as they walked down the hall. “And we’ll speak English?”

“Sure,” Die said. “And Japanese.”

“I didn’t know any of the teachers here were from America,” Freddy said. “Mommy said everyone is Japanese.”

“Well, she’s right,” Die said. “We’re all Japanese. I’m Japanese, too, I just speak some English.”

Freddy laughed, obviously not believing him.

There wasn’t a chance to talk to Shinya about how it had gone when Die dropped Freddy off with him, but later that day Shinya came to play piano for the third grade music class, and Die made sure to at least touch base.

“He’s a little all over the place, but he seems interested and willing to learn,” Die said. “I haven’t seen much of the behavior problems I’ve heard so much about, but I’m sure it’s different in the context of a regular classroom, and especially if he has more trouble with his peers.”

Shinya nodded solemnly. “I’m glad to hear he wasn’t giving you too much difficulty. In class today, I had to write another note home for his parents.”

“What! Today? Why?”

“It was something that could have so easily been avoided,” Shinya sighed. “We were lining up, and he was second in line, which is fine. But then the child ahead of him went back for his jacket, and tried to get his spot back.”

“So Freddy ended up getting in trouble because this other kid was cutting?”

“Well,” Shinya said, “because Freddy’s way of dealing with this was to deck the other kid.”

“He _hit_ him?”

“Unfortunately,” Shinya said. “And the other child wasn’t badly hurt or anything, but obviously, violence is not an acceptable response. If he had just called me over, I could have told the other child, ‘No, you don’t get your spot back,’ and Freddy-kun wouldn’t have been punished at all, but he had to escalate the situation.”

“He seemed fine when I saw him…”

Shinya shrugged. “He was fine when they first lined up, too. But anything can trigger this kind of impulsive reaction from him, and then his whole good day is down the drain.”

Die was surprised by how much sympathy he felt for Freddy, in spite of his not being the one who got hit. He’d only known him one day and already he felt responsible for him, protective of him. It had to be so frustrating to not be able to properly explain to his teacher what had happened, to not _fully_ understand what was going on around him. Die wondered whether the other kids—the child in today’s incident, for example—might even count on these facts about Freddy, and take advantage of them. It was easy to discredit him, to provoke him, and that was just so unfair.

Of course, it wasn’t always possible to make excuses of that nature, less so when it was the other child going home with an ice pack, but Die felt the urge to defend Freddy nevertheless.

It was just another thing to worry about, and Die did what he could to put it on his mental backburner, at least while he was up to his neck in stress about the winter recital.

He saw Freddy only in music class the following day, and although the boy was clearly ecstatic to see him, it was tough for Die, to not be able to give him much in the way of individual attention.

Given that he was just establishing such a fragile trust with his tutee, he didn’t want to give him the impression that he was neglecting him at all. Fortunately, despite Freddy’s making a spectacle of trying to gain Die’s attention, he quickly became preoccupied with everything else going on, playing his recorder (and using it to lightsaber battle the boy next to him).

At least he was getting along with his peers?

By the time the class was over, Die was all distracted by his worries about Freddy again. Shinya had passed him a tentative schedule, planning for Die to meet with Freddy for three thirty-minute sessions a week, staggered so that he wouldn’t be missing the same class subject over and over.

“Math is probably his best subject right now,” Shinya had told him, “so he doesn’t need as much extra help there, obviously, as in English and general social skills.”

Die needed to start really thinking about lesson plans for his work with Freddy, and was so focused on that he nearly forgot that he needed to be up in the music classroom for his first guitar lesson with his new student.

He could never complain about extra income, but between Freddy and the winter concert, Die had enough to think about without extra pupils.

Still, he sat in the quiet classroom, idly tuning both his guitar to teach on, and the student guitar for the new kid, whenever they got there.

As he waited, Die checked the information he had once again, but it wasn’t much. Since he was doing these lessons at the school, the majority of the paperwork was handled by the office. All Die really had was a last name, and try as he may, he couldn’t quite attach it to any of the students he knew. There wasn’t even a grade level listed to help him place them more easily.

The most important information really was the note that his new student was a beginner, meaning he could at least go to the file cabinets against the wall and start pulling out a few basic worksheets and fingering charts that he could go over with them.

It was in the middle of doing this that he heard a sound, and looked up for his new student, only to instead find _Kyo_ darkening his doorway.

“Oh. Hey, Kyo,” Die said, trying to mask his surprise at seeing him.

Kyo raised a hand in greeting. “Mind if I come in?”

There was no sign yet of his guitar pupil, so Die waved Kyo into the room, in hopes that he’d come to tell him he was agreeing to having his students help out with the winter recital.

Kyo paced the perimeter of the room slowly, looking around with apparent interest at the portraits of classical composers lining the walls. “So, this is where you do the music classes, hm?”

“Only the smaller ones,” Die said. “The general classes for the whole grade have to be done in the gym, because the students wouldn’t all fit in here.” He closed the file cabinet and returned to the chairs he’d set up for his lesson, worksheets in hand.

Kyo nodded. “Nice that they let you use the gym for that, though. In my experience, they can be pretty stingy with that shit.”

“Do you not have enough space in the art classroom?”

“You know what the kids are like,” Kyo said with a shrug. “It’s stifling to try to fit them all in one room and tell them to sit down. Especially when they’re creating. I guess I’d be more pissed about it if I really felt like we were confined to the space.”

Die thought of what his student, Koji had said about Kyo taking the class outside. Although he’d been disturbed to hear about the subject Kyo encouraged for sketching practice, he had to respect his efforts to get the restless children out of a cramped classroom and out into nature.

“So,” Die said, since it didn’t seem like Kyo was moving rapidly in the direction he wanted on his own, “speaking of your classes… Have you given any thought to what I asked you before?”

Kyo just stared at him.

“I mean—I don’t mean to rush your decision,” Die said hurriedly. “It’s just—Well, there’s not that much time.”

“Did I say we wouldn’t do it?”

“I—no, you said you’d consider it. And that I was trying to shove the responsibility off on you, getting you to do it for me,” Die said.

“Which is still true,” Kyo said. “But of course I’m happy to help you out.”

Die wasn’t expecting that at all, and reacted perhaps more honestly than he meant to, almost leaping up from where he sat. “Really, you will?!”

“Sure, us art teachers have got to stick together, haven’t we?” Kyo took a seat too, in the chair Die had set out for his student, and sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I already have a few ideas design-wise, but whatever specifics you’d like the posters to include, can you try to get me that info early next week?”

Die nodded, still sort of stunned by how suddenly Kyo was being cooperative. Maybe all those other teachers were really just wrong about him.

“One question I had, did you want to lean heavily in a _Christmas_ direction, or more broadly winter? It’s a different color palette is my concern, obviously. Although, it might also be possible to do an assortment, since they won’t all be hung in the same place…”

“Yeah, I think an assortment might be sort of nice,” Die said vaguely. He got the feeling this could turn into a pretty long discussion, and that wasn’t something he had time for.

“Then, I know your primary hope was for advertising materials, but did you need help with other aesthetics as well? Decorations, programs?”

“Uh, well, I could probably use whatever help I can get,” Die said, trying to be discreet as he twisted to see the clock on the wall. He was kind of starting to worry about his student.

“Myself, I was never much of a Christmas fan,” Kyo went on, but then he seemed to suddenly notice Die looking towards the classroom door. “Oh—um. Is this not a good time?”

“No, it’s okay!” Die said. “I’m just—I’m actually supposed to be teaching a guitar lesson, but my student is late. We can keep talking until they show up.”

“Ah,” Kyo said. “And once he shows up, you really need to start teaching, huh?”

Die chuckled, nodded. “That’s what they pay me for.”

“Fine,” Kyo said, leaning back in his chair. “Get on with it then.”

“Get on with… No, it’s not a problem until they get here.”

“Your student.”

“Right."

“So then.”

It took Die probably too long to catch on to what he was saying. “No, it’s… a student. My student is a—a student.”

Kyo gave him a look. “Yeah? What grade?”

“It… wasn’t marked,” Die said. “But I don’t think that means—That’s not—You—your name is Nishimura…?”

“You don’t know my _name_?”

Okay, that was embarrassing. “I guess I’ve only heard you called ‘Kyo,’ I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect—”

Kyo held up a hand to stop him. “You’re fine. I prefer ‘Kyo,’ seriously, but I can’t help it when the lesson registration paperwork asks me to put down my last name.”

“Then,” Die said uncertainly, “you’re really here for—lessons. You want to learn how to play the guitar?”

Kyo frowned. “Is it against the rules or something? You only teach kids?”

“Of course not,” Die said. “I can teach anyone, I just wasn’t expecting—um.” He looked around at what he’d taken out for the lesson and grimaced. “I only have a child-size guitar for you to use…”

“Who’re you callin’ child-size?”

“Or—And my own instrument, I guess,” Die said. He chewed his lip and then came to a decision inside himself and scooted his chair closer to Kyo’s own. “That’s what we’ll do. You can learn on my instrument.”

Kyo’s eyes widened. “Hold on, I was just kidding about child-size—I can learn on a student instrument, no problem.”

Die shook his head. “Your fingers are too long for it to be comfortable, and besides, if you’re just starting out it’s better for you to get used to the feeling of the real thing you’d be playing. You are a beginner, right?”

“You really don’t mind?” Kyo asked, eyebrows raised. “I’d feel awful if I did something, something happened…”

“I trust you,” Die said with a smile, and passed his guitar easily over for Kyo to hold on his lap.

Kyo held it gingerly, not like he was afraid of it, but like he held a great deal of respect for it. He made no motion as the kids generally did, to start messing around before being given instructions. He looked to Die and waited.

“So, what made you decide to learn guitar” Die asked as he flipped through his assembled papers, looking for the best one to start. Of course they were all the kid-friendly ones with cartoon animals showing the chord positions, but it was what he had, so it was what Kyo would get.

“Pretty much you,” Kyo said. “That is, I’ve always loved music, but I never managed to do much with an instrument. You coming to talk to me last week made me realize I had the opportunity for someone to teach me.”

“It took me going and talking to you to make you realize that?” Die chuckled. “I’ve been at this school for years!”

“And you’d never spoken to me before last week,” Kyo said. His voice and face remained neutral as he said it, not judging or criticizing Die for the fact, but Die still felt a guilty heaviness settling over him.

Even if he knew that he hadn’t deliberately avoided speaking to Kyo in all that time, he couldn’t get away from how it looked: like he’d only talked to Kyo when he did because he wanted something from him.

“But,” Kyo said, drawing Die’s attention back, “I hadn’t talked to you, either.”

There was a lot Die wanted to ask, about how long Kyo had been aware of him, if he’d ever wanted to talk, whether he knew what kind of reputation he had amongst the other teachers, but it really wasn’t the time for any of those questions. Kyo was paying to learn guitar, and it was literally Die’s job to teach him.

In a lot of ways, it was easier than Die’s usual lessons. Kyo wasn’t anything like “obedient” and could hardly be called “patient,” but he was sort of intensely focused, and he made a great effort to do as Die showed him.

The only tricky part was that Die only had the one adult-size guitar, and so when he wanted to demonstrate something, he ended up leaning way into Kyo’s space, which he never usually needed to do during a lesson. Kyo never objected to the uninvited closeness, but Die found himself holding his breath each time he had to crowd him like that.

“I feel like I must be making a lot of really stupid mistakes,” Kyo said. “Usually you teach kids, and yet I’m here messing up even more than the eight-year-olds.”

“No! What makes you say that?”

“That look you have,” Kyo said. “Like you’re trying to will me to move my hand differently, using only your mind.”

“I’m not—I’m sorry if I’m making faces,” Die said, trying not to make yet another face. “You’re not making an abnormal amount of mistakes. Honestly it’s just weird for me, teaching a lesson like this, unable to hold the guitar and see things from my regular perspective.”

“Am I supposed to bring my own guitar in the future then?”

“No, next time I’ll know you’re my student and I can be adequately prepared,” Die said. “Like, yes, it would be good for you to get your own instrument when you’re ready to make that investment, since then you’ll better be able to practice at home and everything, but when you’re just starting out, I understand you might not be set to make that leap yet.”

“So, in the meantime…?”

“In the meantime,” Die said, and reached over to adjust the positioning of Kyo’s fingers, “you’re more than welcome to play one of my own guitars from home during lessons.”

“‘One of’ your guitars,” Kyo repeated with a half-smile. “How many do you have? Are you secretly a rockstar or something?”

“Please, it’s no secret,” Die joked. “Nah, but really I only have four at the moment: three acoustic, and one electric. I’d like to have more, but it’s difficult enough just storing those ones.”

“I know what you mean,” Kyo said. He made no reaction as Die wordlessly repositioned his hand again. “I have so many supplies that it usually looks like an arts and crafts store just vomited all over my apartment.”

Die laughed. “You make a lot of art at home?”

“Well, yeah,” Kyo said, like it was obvious. “Here, I’m the teacher, I can’t really do much in the way of my own stuff. But I don’t do as much as I wish I did. It’s hard to find the time, you know?”

Die did know. He felt much the same way about his music-making. He’d love to be able to play and compose, find more local performance opportunities, but even his “free” time was often dedicated to prepping for classes and lessons, and he had little energy leftover by the end of the day for his own personal projects.

He watched Kyo for a moment as he practiced strumming with a simple rhythm that Die had demonstrated. He was almost nailing it, but the angle at which he held the guitar was making it more awkward than it should have been. Die got up, came around behind Kyo, and guided both his hands, tipping the instrument just so, until it was what he judged as more comfortable.

Kyo paused very slightly at the correction, his shoulders stiffening, and Die wondered if he’d been out of line.

When he made adjustments like that with the kids it was never weird at all, but with Kyo being a grown adult, Die suddenly felt like he might have crossed some personal boundary without even thinking about it.

“Excuse me,” he said, taking a step back. “I should have asked before moving you like that.”

“It’s actually fine,” Kyo said. “Just caught me off-guard.”

“Like I said, it’s a little different from the lessons I’m used to,” Die said. He went back to his seat and glanced at the time. “We have about five minutes left.”

“Already?” Kyo, too, looked at the clock, in surprise. “It went by so fast.”

“It’s a lot of information. I think first lessons are often kinda like that.” Die flipped through his papers. “Should I give you homework?”

Kyo groaned. “ _Homework_ , really? I mean, yeah, I guess?”

“You’re an adult and it’s _your_ lesson,” Die said, laughing a little. “If you don’t think the homework will be helpful, I don’t have to assign it.”

“But do _you_ think it’ll be helpful?”

Die shrugged, but nodded. “It’s just filling in the fingerings for some of the basic chords we worked on today. Might help with getting the positions memorized.”

“Then I’ll try it,” Kyo said, taking the worksheet from Die. “Can’t hurt to spend a little time on it, right?”

“Nah, it’s good for you. If you want, I can assign some art homework for you, too.”

Kyo raised an eyebrow. “ _You’re_ going to give _me_ art homework?”

“So you have a motivation and an obligation to make the art you want to make,” Die reasoned. “Might give you a chance you wouldn’t normally give yourself to work on it.”

Kyo bit his lip, nodding slowly. “Not a bad idea. I might take you up on that next week.”

“All right,” Die said. Then he added, “I would really like to see some of your art sometime, you know. Homework assignment or not.”

“Yeah? You’re always welcome to stop by the art room, I could show you a few things,” Kyo offered, looking somewhat bashful. “I mean, if you’re really interested.”

“Of course I am,” Die said. “I’ll make sure to do that.” He took his guitar back from Kyo and started to put it away. “You’re never in the staff room.”

“Well… No,” Kyo said. “Why would I be? My work is all in the art classroom, and the staff room is full of a bunch of sticks in the mud who’d rather I lose my job.”

Die looked up in alarm. “What? Who wants you to lose your job?”

Kyo rolled his eyes. “Have you never heard the kind of shit everyone else says about me, or what?”

Die didn’t want to say that he actually had, and that most other people’s opinions had been discouraging. “I don’t think…”

“You’re basically the first person here who seems to—respect me,” Kyo said. “And it took you years. I get that part of it’s me, how I come off and everything. But after a while, I stopped even trying, you know? I’m not made to be part of their club, and I don’t want to be anyway.”

Once again, Die wanted to ask a dozen questions, find out just who had hurt Kyo, what incident(s) had pushed him to this point of isolation, but Kyo would have plenty of chances to share that information as his own pace. It wasn’t included in his private guitar lesson plan to pressure Kyo for his whole tragic backstory.

So, for now, Die just thanked Kyo for the lesson, and bade him goodbye, all that curiosity still bubbling away inside him as he watched him go.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks you guys for being patient with the kind of slow, ambling pace of this story. I know it has kind of a lot of little self-indulgent sub-plots and side characters, but I hope some of that stuff is enjoyable too, hah. Anyway, I hope everyone's hanging in there, in life, emotionally. We've all got to take care of one another.

Die loved Christmas.

Maybe it was cheesy and juvenile and he should have put more focus on other subjects, but he couldn’t help it! Just the simple fact of it being December had him excited.

There was something about the atmosphere during this season—the music, the smells, the decorations... The whole world radiated joy and peace, and Die was only too happy to welcome that happiness into his heart.

Plus, the winter concert was only a few weeks away, and his students had been making such admirable progress. All week he’d seen the enthusiasm on the children’s faces as they were reaching the point with their music where they could have _fun_ with it, since they’d gotten the general playing of it in hand.

A few of his more advanced students had solo pieces they would be performing as well, and despite their nerves, Die could tell how eager they were to get onstage.

“My dad’s gonna come,” Koji had told him on Thursday at his lesson. “He’s never gotten to come see me do music before, but he marked it on his calendar and everything.”

“That’s awesome,” Die had said, unable to keep the honest joy from bubbling up out of him. “Is he a Christmas music fan?”

“Not as far as I know. But he’ll like anything as long as it’s me.”

That was just about one of the most heartwarming things Die had ever heard, and he was happy to keep thinking of it all the next day.

Die’s family had been supportive of him, too, as he’d done music growing up—to a point. When he’d gotten more serious about it, their encouragement had waned, but he knew he was lucky to have gotten even that early support; not every family was like that. Especially in this dangerous work climate, where it was common for people to stay at work incredibly long hours, no one looked twice at a father who was too busy to come to his child’s extracurriculars. Die was thrilled to learn that wouldn’t be the case for Koji this time.

His tutoring sessions with Freddy had been going well, too. More of their conversations were taking place in a messy combination of Japanese and English, instead of English primarily, and Freddy’s attitude towards the sessions remained positive, especially with Christmas drawing nearer. Evidently he shared Die’s passion for the holiday season, and Die could only hope that would give him some incentive to keep his behavior in class under control.

“Remember, Santa Claus is watching, right?” he said, before he returned Freddy to Shinya’s class on Friday. “So you’ve got to do a good job, and listen to your teacher. You don’t want to get on the Naughty List.”

“I know,” Freddy said. “Santa only brings presents if I’m good. But today I’m having a good day, Terachi-sensei said so!”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Die said, though seeing as it was barely eleven am, it wasn’t saying much.

When he sent Freddy back into his classroom, the kids were all sitting in a circle doing some kind of drumming game, and Freddy rushed to join in so fast that he got scolded for running inside the building.

From there, Die went back downstairs, stopping to collect the mail from his box before heading to the staff room. Toshiya wasn’t in the administrative office, so he couldn’t say hello to him, but he waved at the other workers, still feeling incredibly Christmasy and cheerful.

Maybe today would be a good day to get his tree set up at home, he thought as he took his mail back to his desk. He usually only had a very humble little tree, but it was still one of the parts of decorating he most looked forward to; nothing was quite so festive as a brightly-lit tree, hung with ornaments mostly handmade by his students from previous years.

There hadn’t been much of interest in his mailbox, and he was sorting through flyers to put in the recycling bin when he came upon one simply folded paper bearing an official stamp from the school, and he frowned as he opened and read it.

He continued frowning as he reread it twice more, hardly able to process what it said, his eyes blurring over certain words.

“ _Unfortunately_ ”… “ _budgetary concerns_ ”… “ _canceled._ ”

“No, no, no, that can’t be right,” he murmured to himself, and flipped through his other mail, searching for some second document that would contradict this one. There had to be some mistake, and then an explanation of the mistake.

There was no possible way that the winter recital had been canceled.

He stood up from his desk, but didn’t know where he thought he was going. The staff room was mostly empty, as most of the faculty was currently in class, and he already knew Toshiya wasn’t in the administrative office, so he couldn’t go to him. What was there to do? Go, like Kyo, flying into a rage, screaming at the principal himself? Would that accomplish anything?

How the hell had this happened? How had he not been consulted? He was aware that he missed most of the morning meetings due to his part-time schedule, but surely someone would have told him if they’d been considering canceling his event. Toshiya, or Kaoru, or Shinya… _Someone_ would have told him. Right?

It almost surprised Die how angry he was, but angry in a cold, detached sort of way, like he could hardly believe his own outrage. Whose decision had this been? If there had really been issues with the budget, why hadn’t they tried to come up with any alternative solution before canceling the concert altogether?

When some of the other teachers started coming in at recess, Die was still just standing there frozen, next to his desk. Several people gave him funny looks, but no one commented until Kaoru arrived. He looked around the room and then addressed Die bluntly.

“What’s the matter with you?”

Die didn’t know quite how to explain. He gestured vaguely to the paper still on his desk.

Kaoru looked, and picked up the paper, reading through it with his lips pursed. As he finished, he shook his head. “That fucking sucks, man, I’m sorry.”

_That sucks?_ Was that really all he had to say about it? He didn’t even seem surprised.

“Did… Did you know about this?” Die managed to ask, with considerable difficulty. “How could you not warn me?”

Kaoru’s eyebrows rose. “Who, me? I hadn’t heard anything about it until just now.”

“You don’t seem shocked,” Die said. “It isn’t something that’s been discussed in the morning meetings?”

Kaoru rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I think I would remember if there had been talk of canceling the whole recital. I know a while back, people were arguing over Kyo’s student art gallery thing, but no one ever brought up the concert that I can recall.”

That didn’t make sense. Decisions like that were always run through half a dozen meetings before they were made official. It wouldn’t have been possible for the principal to cancel the whole thing on a whim, without anyone else hearing about it.

Kaoru lowered his voice. “Are you really surprised thought? You know what Hayashi’s like. He’s been on a total power trip the past couple months, it’s ridiculous.”

Hearing Kaoru say it like that was almost worse. He was so blasé about it, when the winter concert was something— _the_ thing—that Die had been working on nonstop. Had Hayashi-sensei really been planning to cancel it all along? Had he never intended to let it go on? Why would he have let Die waste all this time?

And just what was Die supposed to do now? He had music classes after lunch, but he didn’t think he could break it to his students that they’d all been preparing for nothing, that their parents wouldn’t get to see them performing any of those Christmas songs on which they’d worked so hard.

Die was a coward. He held his class normally, just like he always would have, and couldn’t bear to tell any of his students the reality of the situation. He didn’t even bring it up to Shinya, though he was sure his friend could tell he wasn’t his usual Christmas-cheery self.

It was just that the kids all seemed so happy, and they’d come so far in their efforts with their music. Even Freddy and the other first graders were playing their recorders with great gusto, and Die couldn't be the one to destroy their Christmas spirit by taking the performance away from them.

As hurt as Die was, having his work disrespected and rendered meaningless, ultimately, he wasn’t the one whowould feel the greatest negative impact from this cancellation. He wasn’t the one whose father was coming to see him perform for the first time; he wasn’t the one being robbed of an opportunity to demonstrate what he'd learned and practiced for weeks on end.

At the end of the day, cutting programs like this only really hurt the children, and if the principal couldn’t see that, it was because he had his eyes closed.

Die thought of what he’d heard Kyo screaming at the principal, that first day. It was all this same stuff. Kyo had been completely right from the beginning, and Die hadn’t truly been able to see it until he found himself in the same exact situation.

How many other extracurriculars would face the same fate? Was it only arts programs being systematically wiped out, or did sports and clubs need to worry as well? Was the concern honestly just monetary, or was it primarily about power?

Towards the end of his last music class of the day, Die caught Shinya giving him some extremely worried glances, but still he didn’t dare explain himself, for fear of totally losing his temper and freaking out the kids.

“I’ll text you later," he assured him, and Shinya was politely accepting of this. Somehow they finished out the school day without Die having some absolute mental breakdown.

He would have loved then to hurry home, crawl into his bed and turn on some old episodes of the Walking Dead, while he ordered his favorite comfort food to be delivered. It would have been perfect if he could have just not left his apartment for the next forty-eight hours minimum.

The day wasn’t over for him though; he had one more lesson for which he needed to put on a brave face. He was determined to not bring up his misfortune to Kyo, who would surely be just as dismissive of it as Kaoru. It only made Die feel stupid anyway, for not seeing it coming, after what had happened to Kyo. He would have to tell him eventually, since they’d agreed to their sort of collaboration on the event, but maybe it could at least wait until next week, when Die was feeling perhaps less emotional.

Die’s brave face was pretty good. When it came to fooling someone he didn’t know well, there was never any trouble at all. Sure, Shinya might have been able to see through him, but a near-stranger like Kyo didn’t stand a chance of perceiving some masked personal problem.

So they were able to make it through almost the entire lesson before Kyo said, “What’s up?”

“What’s up with what?” Die asked, blindsided as he was in the middle of his explanation of major vs. minor chords.

“With you,” Kyo said, leaning back in his chair, arm resting on the body of his borrowed guitar. “You’re off.”

That wasn't very nice. “I guess I must just be tired. Friday afternoon and all that."

Kyo didn’t look like he was buying it at all. “Something is clearly upsetting you, and if it’s personal and you don’t want to tell me, that’s valid. But I’m here. And we’re not making any life-changing progress guitar-wise anyway.”

Die could have just brushed him off, said it was something he’d like to keep private. He really did believe that Kyo would drop the matter if he asked him to, so he wasn’t sure why he let his shoulders slump and rubbed his hands over his face. “I got some bad fucking news today, and I don't really know how to deal with it."

Kyo set the guitar respectfully aside. “Do you want to talk about it? Maybe it would help to get an outside perspective?”

It wouldn’t help, and really Die hardly knew Kyo well enough to open up to him, but he started off anyway, “For the past couple months, I’ve been focused on basically nothing but this winter recital. All the kids are stoked as fuck for it, their families are coming, we’re playing ukuleles for the first time…”

Kyo was frowning at him patiently, not jumping to any conclusions, though it was probably pretty clear where the story was going.

“Today I had a notice in my mailbox saying they’d canceled the whole thing,” Die said with a sigh. “ _Budget_ concerns. First I’d heard of it. I don’t see how no one ever mentioned it to me—and what the hell am I supposed to tell all the kids? I just don’t know what to do.”

Kyo’s frown had shifted into a scowl, and he didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, “This was Hayashi again?”

“I mean, I guess so.”

Without another word, Kyo stood up and started striding calmly towards the door.

“Wait, what—where are you going?” Die said, getting up too.

“Just gonna have a word with our principal,” Kyo replied.

“And say _what_? He’s not gonna—”

“Say that this is _bullshit_ , and we’re not gonna sit here and take it while his smug ass shits on us and our work, over and over again,” Kyo said, through clenched teeth, and he exited into the hall.

“Whoa, whoa, Kyo—”

“ _No_ , who the _fuck_ does he think he is?” Kyo snarled, looking over his shoulder at Die, but not slowing down. “Like I get that the power-hungry asshole hates _me_ , so it’s not much of a surprise when he does something to fuck me over, but _you_ —People _like_ you! You follow the rules, you do what you’re supposed to, and you still have to put up with this fucking—just _no_.”

Die reached for Kyo, at a loss for how else to stop his advance towards the principal’s office, and caught his wrist. “ _Please_ wait.”

To his surprise, Kyo didn’t shake him off, just stood still and looked at him.

“I… appreciate that you’re so outraged,” Die said carefully, his hand still holding Kyo’s wrist. “Believe me, I am too, and going to chew him out definitely crossed my mind when I first found out. But… but it’s not going to do any good. I’m pissed, and you’re pissed, but realistically… he’s just not going to care. And the only consequences of our actions will be _us_ getting in trouble.”

Kyo didn’t have a response to that. His glare traveled down to Die’s hand on his wrist, but still Die held him fast.

“That probably sounds cowardly to someone like you,” Die said. “Maybe I am scared, that my uncontrolled reaction could just have a further negative impact on my kids. If I get into it with the principal, my students could lose me as a teacher, lose their music program altogether. There’s more at stake than just the winter recital, or than just my emotions about being screwed over.”

Slowly, Kyo turned towards him, and his expression softened. “I don’t think you’re a coward. Just a little less hotheaded than I am.”

“In this case, perhaps,” Die said with a wry smile. He let his hand fall from where he’d been holding Kyo. “Sorry for grabbing you like that.”

“If your kids were in this situation, though,” Kyo said, “wouldn’t you want them to learn to stand up for themselves? You wouldn’t want them to be taken advantage of, right?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Die agreed. “But I’d hope I could find a better solution to set an example than going and cussing out the boss.”

Kyo chuckled softly at that. “What, you mean that’s not the number one most effective way to handle any and every obstacle you encounter? Since when?”

A sad kind of smile tugged at Die’s lips. He wanted to _hug_ Kyo somehow. Out of everyone he knew, everyone who might have _known_ this was coming without telling him, Kyo was the only one to be so upset on his behalf, and even if he didn’t want Kyo to go slash Hayashi-sensei’s tires or anything like that, it felt good to have someone on his side.

“Thank you,” he said, and saw confusion flicker briefly across Kyo’s face before he nodded.

“Anytime.”

They returned awkwardly to the music room, but didn’t bother with trying to pick their lesson back up. Instruments and music were packed away as they talked a little more about the general frustration of all their prep work having been for nothing. With how supportive Kyo was being, Die felt even worse about letting him down after he’d offered him the collaboration opportunity, and made sure to apologize.

Kyo waved him off. “Don’t worry about that. No offense, but it’s really no great loss to me and mine. I just wish there was more I could do.”

“You’ve done more than enough already,” Die said. “Even just listening to my troubles… you don’t know how much it means to me.”

“Well,” Kyo said with a shrug. “I was serious when I said anytime. I’m always around, and you’re always welcome to come tell me about shit. I might not be able to do much besides say how fucked-up it is, but if there’s ever anything I _can_ do…”

Die nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He stayed a while longer after Kyo took off, fiddling around on his guitar in the mostly-empty school, a surprising warmth filling him that had less to do with the holiday season, and more to do with this new, strange friendship he seemed to be finding with Kyo.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's October! I am really hoping to get some of that fall weather around here soon! Here's another chapter!

The weekend made it all seem a bit more real. Die had time to think about it, to talk things over with Shinya, who, like Kaoru, claimed to have heard nothing about the cancellation in advance, but wasn’t overly surprised by it either. He was nowhere near as outraged as Kyo, though Die hadn’t expected him to be, just based on his personality type.

“It’s fun for them to work on holiday music anyway, isn’t it?” Shinya said as they met for coffee Sunday afternoon. “Even if there’s not a live performance to look forward to, they’ve obviously enjoyed learning the material you’ve given them.”

This was where Die was still struggling. Even after thinking about it all weekend, he didn’t know how to tell his students everything had fallen through. They would be so disappointed, and for no good reason at all.

“All I mean,” Shinya went on gently, “is that you shouldn’t be hard on yourself, shouldn’t think of it as time wasted. The kids have been learning and practicing, and they’ve gotten a lot out of it. Sometimes that’s just how things go.”

Die was highly uncomfortable with the resignation in Shinya’s words. Was he really supposed to just accept that he had no control over something so major in his work, in his life?

At any rate, Shinya acted sympathetic, gave Die a long, much-needed hug, and offered his support in whatever form Die needed it. There wasn’t much he _could_ do outside of that.

Tuesday saw Die back at the elementary school, and he had another tutoring session with Freddy in the morning.

Luckily Freddy tended to be interesting, and distracting enough that Die didn’t need to work to hide his other emotions from him when they worked together. He was honestly just invested in whatever they were talking about.

“So, has your family gotten a Christmas tree already?” Die asked him as he put some hiragana flashcards away for the day. “Everything ready for Santa Claus?”

Freddy nodded eagerly. "We got a tree, and Mommy let me put the star up on top—it’s not as big as the tree we had in America, but it’s still good.”

“Yeah, most of the trees around here are pretty small,” Die agreed. “But that’s okay! I don’t think Santa has any trouble finding them! I got mine set up, too, yesterday.”

“Does Santa come to your house, even though you’re a grown-up?”

“Of course he does!” Die said indignantly. “Who else would bring me presents?”

Freddy shrugged. “Your mom?”

Die let out a startled snort, but before he could make much of a retort, the classroom’s sliding door slammed fully open, and Kyo was standing there, looking wild-eyed and excited.

“Die!” he said, coming into the room with no other preamble. “I’ve got it!”

“Got what? I mean,” Die said, glancing down at Freddy who was staring at Kyo with obvious interest. “Can… it wait? I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.”

Kyo frowned at Freddy. “What’re you doin’ with him?”

It wasn’t totally clear which of them he was asking, and Freddy spoke up, “He’s American, so he helps me learn Japanese.”

Kyo raised an eyebrow. “American, huh? Learn something new every day.”

“How did you know to find me here?” Die said

“Seriously? You’re right down the hall from me.”

“Well, we're working. I’ve been tutoring Freddy here, since he struggles sometimes with adapting to a Japanese lifestyle and class setting,” Die explained briskly.

“Oh, I know all about that,” Kyo said. “Did he tell you about how I had to move him across the room after a girl complained he was trying to cut her hair?”

Die turned to Freddy in surprise.

“I didn’t cut her hair!” Freddy said loudly. “And I didn’t cut her dress! She said that I did, but I didn’t!”

Ah, there was that defensiveness. “No one is accusing—”

“She said I did, but I never did that—she’s _lying_!!”

His voice was rising steadily, and seeing as it wasn’t even a matter in which Die had been involved, he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

Thankfully, Kyo stepped forward, kneeled so he was at Freddy’s level. “Did I say you did it?”

“She said—”

“Did _I_ say that you cut her hair?” Kyo repeated, his tone stern, but not unkind.

“No,” Freddy admitted.

“Did I say you were in trouble? Or did Andou-sensei?”

Again, Freddy could only answer, “No.”

“Then I see no reason for you to get so upset,” Kyo said reasonably. “We’re not the people to yell at.”

Die wasn’t sure about saying that, since it plainly implied that Freddy _should_ be yelling, he just ought to be yelling at someone else—but it seemed to calm the boy down, so he didn’t get into it.

“Hey, Kyo,” Die said, hoping not to get Freddy all worked up again, “I’m totally interested in whatever you came here to tell me, but I’m gonna walk him back over to his class in about five minutes, so could we maybe talk after that?”

“Oh,” Kyo said, looking confused, as if he hadn’t noticed until just then that Die was busy. “Yeah, of course, come find me in the art room when you’re done?”

“Sure thing,” Die said, and Kyo took his leave.

Both Die and Freddy were staring at the door by which he exited for a while before either of them spoke.

Finally Freddy said, “He’s the art teacher. He teaches me how to draw something sometimes.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Once I wanted to draw Pikachu,” Freddy went on, switching into English and speeding up, “but he said that wasn’t what the class was learning today and I’d have to practice it at home. So he drew a picture of Pikachu just for me and gave it to me to take home so I could copy it, and I did, and now I can draw Pikachu so good! I really can!”

“Wow,” Die said. “I believe you.”

“He’s so nice,” Freddy said, in Japanese. “I like him.”

“Yeah, I… do, too,” Die said uncertainly.

It wasn’t exactly that he was unsure about liking Kyo, but in the very short time he’d known him, he’d been growing increasingly unsure about _how_ he liked him. He really didn’t _know_ Kyo very well, and yet having him barge into his tutoring session with Freddy set Die’s heartbeat all out of order, had him distracted and confused. Kyo’s eccentricity clearly got the kids interested, but it got Die interested too, and he couldn’t quite say what that meant for him.

He wrapped things up with Freddy, reminded him for the umpteenth time to behave himself in class, and redelivered him to Shinya.

That done, Die went to the end of the hall and found Kyo in his classroom, his sleeves rolled up as he tiptoed around some splatter art project on the floor in front of his desk.

Die was hesitant to interrupt; Kyo had earbuds in, paint smudged on his cheek, and seemed totally in the zone. Only very gently did Die knock on the doorframe, whispering, "Excuse me..."

Kyo looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “Why are you lurking in the doorway? I asked you to come find me here, didn’t I?”

“I just didn’t want to startle you,” Die said, and gestured. “You’re all… busy, clearly.”

“I’m not busy.” Kyo removed one earbud, as if to demonstrate the extent of the attention he was giving Die. “I just started working on this while I was waiting for you."

Die stepped cautiously closer, peering down to get a look at Kyo's work. "What is it?"

“Example,” Kyo said with a shrug, "so I can teach the kids this technique."

“Looks cool,” Die said, half to himself. He couldn’t claim to know much about art, even less about _abstract_ art, but there was something inexplicably pleasing about the dashes of color, bright and uncontrolled as they burst across the empty background.

“Would you like to try?” Kyo held out the paintbrush he’d been using without even a hint of wariness.

Die almost took it, too, but he shook his head. “Another time, I’d—I’d really like you to teach me. But—if I get paint on my work clothes, I’ll regret it. I only own like two pairs of slacks.”

Kyo looked him up and down and chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“Anyway, I’d gotten the impression that there was something sort of urgent you wanted to talk to me about…?”

Kyo pointed the paintbrush at him. “Yes. I came up with a solution to our problem.”

Not wanting to assume just what he meant by that, Die waited for him to elaborate.

“An _actual_ collaboration,” Kyo said, looking more excited than Die had ever seen him. “If they’re gonna claim the issue is the budget, _fuck_ them and their stinginess, we’ll go in on it together, make it a combination fundraiser/night of art _and_ music!”

Die must have been gaping at him for too long a time, because Kyo’s face fell and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I don’t see why it’s such an outrageous idea as all that,” Kyo said huffily. “If you just don’t want to work with me—"

“No, I—When did I say that? I don’t think it’s that outrageous,” Die said, scrambling to make up for his delayed reaction. “I just didn’t expect you to want…”

“I want a chance for my kids’ work to be seen,” Kyo stated.

Die nodded, somewhat embarrassed that he’d momentarily hoped Kyo’s motivation had something to do with _him_ , specifically.

“Isn’t that what you want, too?” Kyo asked, tilting his head.

“Of course,” Die said. He paused before adding, “My only thought—and it’s not necessarily a problem, but—Well, it was supposed to be our winter concert. So, you know, we’d prepared Christmas songs and that kind of thing.”

“What, and you’re worried my classes’ art won’t be seasonally appropriate?” Kyo said skeptically.

“No, I don’t—Would… it be?”

Kyo let out a short, derisive laugh. “If that’s what you need, we could try to have a few wintry-themed projects. But I’m not gonna make any promises about someone else’s art.”

“That’s—yeah, it’s not a big deal,” Die said, wrinkling his nose. After all, he couldn’t really afford to be picky when Kyo was offering him a chance to salvage the months of work he’d done for the recital. “Out of curiosity, though… what kind of art do you think your classes might be presenting at this hypothetical show?”

“Hmm, I haven’t laid everything out yet,” Kyo said, scratching at a spot under his eye and smearing more paint on his face in the process. “My older kids had done some pieces about exploring and overcoming fears that I’d really like to display…” He threw the paintbrush he was still holding carelessly on a desk, and walked to a file cabinet along the wall. Opening it, he picked through a few files. “The ones about ‘the inside mind’ also came out interesting, I’m sure they’d like to show those.”

Die was kind of sorry he’d asked, but at least Kyo hadn’t answered, “ _dead animals_ ” outright. And to be fair, those did sound like some fascinating topics for artwork, maybe even moreso coming from elementary-age artists.

“Will you show some of your own work, too?” Die asked.

Kyo looked up from the file cabinet in surprise. “ _My_ stuff? Nah, it’s not—This isn’t about me. I wouldn’t want to take space away from the students.”

“But you’d proposed it as a kind of fundraiser, right?” Die said. “Maybe selling some of your work for the cause…?”

Kyo grimaced. “I’m not sure there’s a ton of overlap between people who want to come to an elementary school Christmas performance and those who would like to own a piece of my art.”

“You might be surprised,” Die said.

“Think we’d be better off sticking to like a bake sale or something.”

"You know, I still haven't seen any of your work," Die said casually. “That is, outside of this.” He looked down at the splatter paint. “You had said before that you’d show me sometime, if I came by the art room.”

Kyo smirked. “I guess I did say that. So then, you want to see some now?”

“I am here,” Die said. “Might as well.”

He held his breath as Kyo actually moved behind his desk to open the latched cabinet there. Part of him was almost afraid to finally glimpse the art Shinya had described as being so weird and haunting, but another part of him was tingling with anticipation.

Kyo stood up again with a binder in his hands and walked towards Die, keeping his eyes on it. “This one’s got the most recent stuff, I guess. Gives you some idea of my interests in the past couple years.” He held it out to Die slowly, perhaps reluctantly, though his facial expression revealed no particular self-consciousness or displeasure.

Die took the offered binder, not altogether sure what he was expecting, if he thought something might leap right out of the pages and attack him.

No such thing happened, of course. Each piece remained on the page, motionless, no matter how filled with life and movement it was. Many of the pieces were indeed filled with life; they were filled with death, too. But there wasn’t one among them that Die didn’t feel hooking inside his ribcage and pulling.

It was interesting to him how, stylistically, some of the work showed a clear traditional influence, reminded him of old woodblock prints, or depictions of folk monsters, and yet there was another element, something both _soft_ and aggressively distressing that made them unique to Kyo.

He was surprised, too, by the sheer level of detail in some of the pieces. His eye could hardly follow it all, and he felt overwhelmed, trying to see every line, ever scale, every hair, laid out so painstakingly and so raw, giving the subject even more life and thus greater suffering.

The whole time Die was perusing his artwork, Kyo stood patiently by, arms crossed over this chest. He didn’t speak, neither to offer commentary on the art, nor to hurry Die along in his slow study of it. Die might have forgotten he was there at all if his presence didn’t radiate some peculiar, unmistakable energy that Die found difficult to totally ignore.

He could have seen himself getting lost in that art, though, and in a way it still scared him. Having seen it firsthand, he could easily understand how Shinya found it haunting, and felt sure he would be visited by unbidden memories of it when he next lay down to sleep.

It really wasn’t the kind of stuff that was appropriate for elementary schoolers. But, Die supposed, Kyo had never claimed it was. It was his own art, his independent creative career, and not necessarily anything like what he taught his students, outside of technique.

All in all, Die could have spent much longer looking at it, spent the next hour or more under its thrall, but the bell rang, signaling the start of lunchtime, and summoning him back to reality. He nearly jumped as the loudness of it forced his eyes from the page.

Kyo still didn't say anything, but looked at him sort of expectantly.

“Dark stuff,” Die said, and maybe it was the wrong thing to lead with, but it was just what came to mind first.

“That?” Kyo scrunched up his face. “Definitely some darker shit in some of my other binders. Past couple years haven’t been as bad for me, mental health-wise.”

“Do you always create based on what you’re going through in life?”

“It’s only natural, don’t you think?” Kyo said, as Die returned the binder. “But no, I guess not always. Sometimes inspiration hits and has nothing to do with—well, anything.” He crossed the room to put the binder away with its brothers, and something screamed in Die, desperate to know how much more there was, how many years of that deeply painful content he could be allowed to breathe in and learn and come to know.

“I hope you’ll show me more another time,” he said.

Kyo quirked an eyebrow at that. "Really? What, you weren’t traumatized? I thought for sure I’d scared you off a collaboration.”

“Not at all,” Die said. “No, I… I liked it.”

Kyo looked even more disbelieving.

“Really,” Die insisted. “I mean, yeah, some of it is creepy as hell, but I still thought it was _good_ , and I can’t deny that I felt _moved_ by it.”

Still, Kyo was watching Die with narrowed eyes. “Aren’t you—close, with Shinya?"

The question was so far out of left field that Die didn’t know how to answer it properly, and blurted out, “We’re just friends.”

“…Okay.”

“By which, I mean, sure, we’re—we’re close, in a friendly way,” Die said, “but what’s—what does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s just hard for me to believe that a friend of Shinya’s would be able to _like_ my art,” Kyo said. “He hasn’t told you I’m some agent of the devil or something?”

Die frowned. “Oh, come on, you make him sound like a pearl-clutching old Christian grandmother. Shinya’s not as conservative as all that.” He did feel bad that this was clearly the impression Shinya had left on Kyo though. They never had gotten off on the right foot.

“After I showed him my art, he pretty much wanted nothing to do with me,” Kyo said. “Think I really freaked him out.”

“Maybe you did," Die allowed, “but he told me—well, he seemed to think the issue was more that you… didn’t want to have friends.”

The look Kyo gave him then made Die feel very stupid for saying that out loud.

“He doesn’t hate you,” he said, trying again. “He feels you’re difficult to get close to, but he doesn’t have anything against you.”

Kyo turned away, moving to clean up some things on his desk. “I’m not overly concerned about it. Though it’s funny that you two have spent the time talking about me.”

“I was—” Die cut himself off, not sure what he’d been going to say. Interested? Curious, perhaps? That would just make him sound like some kind of weirdo. “Sorry," he said instead, “for talking behind your back.”

"Again, I don't really care,” Kyo said with a shrug.

Die wasn’t sure how much he believed that. Kyo was clearly intelligent enough, and Die felt sure he knew the kinds of things the other faculty said about him. He was aware, and maybe it truly didn’t bother him, or maybe he just couldn’t _let_ it bother him, because he recognized it as inevitable.

Once more, Die found that he felt rather sorry for Kyo. It had to suck to be in a position where he was more or less shunned by the majority of his coworkers, and yet he took it without real complaint, and went on doing his work, knowing it was never respected or appreciated.

He’d like to see one of these other stuck-up teachers try to teach an art class sometime.

None of this could really be said out loud, as Die was sure Kyo didn’t want his _pity_ , but he stowed it away as contributions to how he thought about Kyo in a more general way.

He watched Kyo puttering around his desk for another minute, wondering if it would be most polite for him to leave and get out of his hair.

“So, then…” he began vaguely.

“You don’t have to stay,” Kyo said without looking up. “You’re onboard though, for the fundraiser?”

“I am,” Die confirmed. “I’ll… Well, we can work out the details later, for the most part.”

“Sure.”

“But I’ll start working on finding us help, volunteers.”

“Sounds good.”

Die scowled, more than a little annoyed by Kyo’s unhelpful attitude. What, was he going to just let Die do everything alone?

“Let me know, if you come up with anything, too, I guess,” he said somewhat pointedly. “I can give you my phone number…”

“I can just send it to your work email, yeah?”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s. That’s fine,” Die said, unable to find a reason to argue against that, despite wanting to.

He left the art room feeling confused. He couldn’t understand Kyo’s change in mood. He didn’t know him well enough to tell if he was actually suddenly angry or if he just got like that sometimes. Had Die done something to piss him off?

All the same, for the most part, Die was happy—excited, even. He’d seen his winter concert come crashing down around him, and less than a week later, he had a possible solution to the problem. He might be able to avoid disappointing all those students and their families, and it was all thanks to Kyo.

How funny that even with Die’s many and varied friends within the school, the only person who had reached out with an effort to help him had been Kyo, someone who barely knew him at all, and who was regarded as antisocial and cold by nearly everyone Die had spoken to.

He was cheered up further when he encountered one of his fifth graders in the hall after lunch. She was one of the most talented and most polite students he had, though she didn’t take private lessons with him; she was too busy with violin, piano, and upwards of five dance classes a week. He sometimes worried about that kind of workload for a ten-year-old, but there was no doubt that it was what she wanted to do, rather than something aggressively forced upon her by domineering parents. And she didn’t seem any less cheerful for all her activities.

Her bright and positive attitude was infectious, and Die always ended up smiling when he talked to her. “Maiko, how’s it going? Keeping busy with ballet?”

“Always! We’re starting to have weekend rehearsals soon, for our next show. You’ll come, won’t you?”

“Of course, I’d never miss it.” He never did miss it, since the first performance she’d invited him to, and even if his own recital was in limbo at the moment, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t support a student’s other artistic endeavors.

“But actually, I have something for you!” she said then, and looked around rather slyly before handing him a small package.

“Wow,” Die said, looking down at the shimmering plastic in his hands. “Is this a golden snitch?”

Maiko grinned from one of her charmingly sticking-out ears to the other. “Yep! It’s a Christmas ornament! I made it! But um, I didn’t make enough for all the teachers, so maybe don’t tell anyone. The hot glue was really hard to work with.”

Die chuckled. He’d long been aware of Maiko’s borderline obsession with the Harry Potter books. He’d even been her sounding board when she’d made an entire illustrated joke book based on the series. The little winged ball would be a perfect decoration for his tree, and he also appreciated the tag that hung off it, wishing him a happy holiday season, with a few tiny drawings following Maiko’s signature.

“I can’t wait to hang it on my tree, thank you very much,” he told her earnestly, and she went off on her way, beaming.

It was expected when Shinya commented on Die’s raised spirits as compared with the week before.

“You’re seeming much less downhearted,” he said quietly while the music class was occupied with some theory work. “I’m glad you’re not taking it as hard. You know a lot of these kids don’t put much stock in performing anyway.”

“I am less down,” Die said, “but not… because I’ve come to terms with it or something. Actually, I’m excited because I may have come up with a way to pull the concert off after all.”

“Really?” Shinya said, understandably surprised. “What did you come up with?”

“Er—Okay, so _I_ didn’t come up with it, actually, but—a fundraiser, and I just put on the concert with whatever money we raise—no budget concerns necessary.”

“Whose idea is this then?” Shinya asked. “You’ve got some help already putting it together?”

“Kyo’s, he suggested we could kind of team up, since both our events got canceled,” Die said, not quite meeting Shinya’s eyes. For some reason, he didn’t want to be so forthcoming with the Kyo aspect of this plan.

Shinya’s eyes went wide. “You’re teaming up with _Kyo_?”

Ah, yes, that was the kind of reaction Die had been afraid of.

“It just makes sense,” Die said, and he hoped it came out as casually as he meant it to, not defensive and panicky. “We both teach art subjects, and we both need an occasion to present our students’ work.”

“You’re doing _holiday_ music,” Shinya said. “Kyo’s style is… I’m sorry, I just don’t see what part of that ‘makes sense.’”

"He said he’d try to get a few winter aesthetic works from his students, but I didn’t feel like he needed to adhere strictly to our theme—”

“Did he show you his art?” Shinya interrupted.

“I—Yes, he did, but it’s not _his_ work that would be—“

“And did you think it was really holiday appropriate?”

Die was starting to feel a bit like a badgered witness, but still he tried to keep his voice down, as the students were in the middle of completing a time signatures worksheet. “No. But I _liked_ his work, and I don’t think _his_ preferred style and subject matter have much to do with what his kids are presenting. Why do you always have to be so against him?”

“I’m not,” Shinya said evenly. “All I’m saying is there’s a _reason_ why his gallery got canceled, and getting into bed with someone like that might not be the wisest choice.”

“I’m not ‘getting into bed’ with him,” Die snapped. “We just see a way we can help each other out, and we—Besides, "there’s a _reason_ "—does that mean you think there’s a good reason for my recital to be gutted, too? Love to hear your justification for that.”

Shinya’s eyes narrowed a bit. “You’re taking this awfully personally.”

"Because you keep trying to cast Kyo as this outsider, when really he’s no different from me. Both our situations suck, and if we work _together_ we stand a chance of improving things.”

“All right. Say that's true, you two work together, put on your concert, defeat the Big Bad Principal who was thinking of something so _petty_ as the elementary school’s financial stability.” Shinya looked out over the heads of the busily-working students, like he was gazing out at the horizon. “How do you think something like that is going to reflect upon you?”

Die gaped at him. “Are—Are you really trying to ominously warn me, in this dire of a situation, that working with Kyo is going to damage my _reputation_?”

“You know how these things run,” Shinya said and shrugged. “If it works out, and you get to save your recital, of course I’m happy for you. It just seems like you might need the reminder that Kyo is _trouble_.”

If they hadn’t been in the middle of a class, Die might have told Shinya to go fuck himself and stormed out—although, probably not, because how could one say something like that to Shinya?

He was just shocked at the lack of support Shinya was showing. Kyo was trouble? Really? Trouble for whom? Was Shinya seriously going to just kiss Hayashi’s ass, back him up unconditionally, even when all the evidence showed he was wrong?

Die couldn’t understand it, but Shinya’s words went on haunting him through the rest of the day’s lessons. Could Kyo really be Trouble, and perhaps more importantly, did Die even care if he was?


	9. Chapter 9

Die smiled out at his fifth grade class as everyone lowered their ukuleles. “That’s really coming along,” he said proudly. “I can tell that some of you have been practicing your rhythms at home.”

There was some grumbling from the majority of the students, who most assuredly had not been practicing any such thing.

“So I’d like for us to run through it one more time before we pack up,” Die said, stealing a glance at the clock on the wall. “But before we do, does anyone have any trouble spots, any questions about any specific areas?”

One boy’s hand shot up—Keisuke, one of his guitar students—and Die gestured for him to speak.

“Are we even still having the concert?”

The question caught Die by surprise, and he faltered. “What?”

Another student called out, “Why do we have to rehearse if the concert has been canceled?”

“It’s not—No,” Die said, with a tense smile, “it’s still happening, of course. Why would you even ask that?”

The kids went oddly quiet, until Maiko, sitting up towards the front, said, “Kyo told us the principal canceled it.”

That stalled Die for another few seconds. _What the hell, Kyo? Was it really necessary to tell them that?_

“Was he lying?” Keisuke asked.

“Well—“

“Why would the principal cancel the concert? Did you do something to make him mad?”

“I don’t think that’s—”

“My mom was gonna come to the concert to see us play,” one boy piped up. “She likes Christmas music.”

Several other kids joined in, telling how their parents were coming specifically, leaving work early to catch the performance, and Die could feel the panic crawling up through his ribcage.

“I know!” he said loudly, quieting the jumble of voices. “I know, all of your parents are so excited to see you onstage.”

Off to the side, he could see Kaoru watching the whole scene, reserving his judgment, but clearly devoting his attention to the discussion rather than his usual papers.

“That’s why—Of course, no, that’s not true, and we will definitely be having the concert,” Die said firmly. “We might just do it a little differently from how it was planned.”

He’d hoped that might close the topic, but another hand went up, and the girl didn’t wait to be called on before blurting out, “Do you not like Kyo?"

Die sputtered, tried to deflect, “That’s—Are you guys really allowed to call him Kyo? He’s your teacher, shouldn’t you be more respectful?”

“He says to call him that,” another girl said. “Even the first-graders call him Kyo, from what I heard.”

“Well, that’s. Interesting,” Die said, because he didn’t want to insist that it was inappropriate, if it was at Kyo’s request.

Still, Kaoru didn’t say anything, and the class had to hurry through one last play of “Silver Bells” before the school day officially ended and everything was packed away.

It was only back in the staff room that Kaoru finally commented on the whole episode. “So, you told Kyo about your concert’s cancellation, hm? I suppose he can relate.” He rubbed his chin. “Did you really find a way to still put it on, like you told the kids today?”

Remembering Shinya's reaction, Die wasn’t so sure he wanted to get into detail about his collaboration with Kyo.

“Thinking of making it into a fundraiser-type deal,” he said vaguely.

Kaoru grunted. “Seems like it could work.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

“Guess you’d better get a meeting with Hayashi then, see if he’d be able to give you any help with resources, volunteers… As long as there’s no other activity scheduled in the gym, you’d probably still be able to use that space, too.” Kaoru shrugged. “You’ve got some practice charming the cheapskate, right?”

Die wasn’t sure his experience was really enough to get the results he wanted, but he appreciated Kaoru’s grudging sort of pep talk nonetheless.

“Ne, do you think you’d be able to help, too?” Die asked. “I’m pretty sure when it comes down to it, I’m gonna need all the allies I can get.”

Kaoru pursed his lips. “Hmm.” His arms were crossed over his chest, and Die thought that might be all he was actually going to say, but then he said, “I’ll have to take a look at my calendar and let you know.”

And okay, that was probably as good as “no” from Kaoru, but at least he was trying to be mindful of Die’s feelings.

Truly though, Die knew he would need a great deal of help, from basically every one of his resources if he was going to make it through this event. He had to hope that Kaoru would come through when he needed him.

It was hard to tell whether Kyo was really going to be any help at all. Die was probably going to need the principal’s support in order to pull this off, much as he didn’t want to, and considering the bad blood between him and Kyo, Shinya might have been right about Kyo being a liability, making things difficult for Die.

After all, it was bad enough that Kyo had been going around telling Die’s students that the recital was canceled, without conferring with him first. And there Die had been, so determinedly _not_ mentioning it to the kids, since he hadn’t wanted to discourage or dishearten them.

Now he’d have to do damage control with his fifth-graders, get their confidence back up, but hopefully it was something easily put behind them.

Except of course that Die was a fool to think that might have been the only class Kyo had told.

The whole of the following day seemed to be nothing but questions about the cancellation, why they still had to practice and learn, comments about how meaningless and pointless music class was—which were exactly the kind of thing Die _never_ wanted to hear from his students.

By Friday afternoon, he actually felt kind of pissed at Kyo, even if the facts of the situation weren’t technically changed by the students having access to certain information. He just thought that if Kyo was really committed to making this collaboration happen, he shouldn’t go around telling everyone it was off.

When Kyo arrived for his guitar lesson, Die didn’t even wait for him to take out his instrument before he was practically attacking him.

“Why the hell have you been telling all my students that the recital got canceled?” he demanded.

“It’s not my fault that you didn’t tell them yourself,” Kyo replied, unfazed by the outburst.

“That’s not—I wasn’t _going_ to tell them!”

“What, ever? How were you thinking they would find out then?”

“From what we’d talked about, putting it on ourselves and everything, I had kind of thought they’d never _have_ to find out,” Die said frantically. “We could just still have the concert and they’d never—but now that’s not an option anymore, thanks to you and your big mouth!” Die hadn’t really meant to get so worked up and completely lose his chill, but Kyo’s utter lack of remorse was getting to him more than he’d expected. “Are you planning on backing out of working together, is that why you told them?”

“Are _you_ planning on backing out?” Kyo shot back.

“Of course I’m not!”

“You sure? Or maybe you’re just hoping I’ll walk, so you can tell everyone what an asshole I am,” Kyo said with surprising heat, considering his still-relaxed, calm demeanor. “Then you can just get your little friend Shinya to help you out instead, right? He’s got your back.”

Die was completely lost, thrown by the turn the argument had taken. “What are you even talking about right now?”

“Why did you agree to collaborate?” Kyo said, looking honestly curious. “Why did you even agree to teach me guitar? Didn’t you know already that I’m essentially a pariah? I wouldn’t want to hurt your social status.”

Die raised his hands in front of him. “I literally don’t know where any of this is coming from.”

“You’re the one who came at me like you wanted a fight!”

“Not about this!” Die said in exasperation. He sat down heavily in his chair. “Look. I’m not gonna lie and say I haven’t heard shit about you, but I don’t give a damn what people say. They don’t even _know_ you, and my ‘social status’—fuck that, it’s meaningless.”

Kyo stared at him in apparent shock, finally speechless.

“I just,” Die continued, raking a hand through his hair, “don’t understand why you had to tell the kids about the concert being canceled.”

Kyo had barely made it into the room when Die had started in on him, but now he came and sat down in his usual seat, frowning and looking terribly serious. After a long moment he said, “I don’t believe in lying to children.”

What a simple way to make it seem like Die was the one being a dick.

“It’s not _lying_ to just not tell them something awful,” he argued.

Kyo gave him a look. “Okay, without getting into the ethics of lying by omission, you’re acting like I told them something wildly inappropriate. All I did was tell them the truth, that as our student art gallery had been axed, so had the concert gone the same way. I wasn’t saying it to be cruel, I was just being _real_.”

Die shook his head tiredly. “Do you seriously not see the consequences of saying something like that to a bunch of elementary schoolers? Why didn’t you think about the unnecessary panic you would cause by misleading them—”

“The concert _was_ canceled,” Kyo said. “It wasn’t mislead—”

“But we’re trying to save it!”

“I… told the students about the cancellation before you agreed to team up.”

“And did you then correct yourself afterwards?”

There, Kyo paused, his eyes downcast. “I… don’t like lying to kids.”

“That’s—It’s not lying,” Die said again, confused. “Or—you don’t think we’ll be able to pull it off.”

“I wasn’t sure if you… were going to change your mind,” Kyo said hesitantly. “I thought. Knowing you’re close friends with Shinya, and—he might convince you to, well, come to your senses.”

It was hard to know what to say to that, when technically Shinya had literally tried to persuade Die not to work with Kyo. Such fears were perfectly justified, and Kyo hardly knew Die well enough to have any good reason to trust him. And especially when Die was being so aggressive and combative, he wasn't giving him much of a positive impression.

At the same time, Die couldn't really apologize for Shinya's actions, and he wasn’t going to claim that he was sorry for his friendship with him, or that he put no stock in what Shinya said. He was one of Die’s closest friends, whom he trusted most, and he wouldn’t deny that, even if he did disagree with him about Kyo.

Rather than get into all of that, Die tried to return them to the matter at hand, of why he took issue with the information Kyo was sharing.

“People don't take music seriously," he said.

Kyo tilted his head patiently, waiting for him to continue.

“They don't take art programs seriously, and they don't take _me_ seriously. It's so hard to give myself any credibility, especially when shit like this happens." He sighed, leaning forward in his chair, and rested his elbows on his knees. “I get that you weren't being malicious with what you told the kids, but I wish you would have thought about the kind of impact it would have."

“What kind of impact do you mean?” Kyo asked.

“Even if— _when_ —we make the concert happen now,” Die said, “those kids aren’t going to trust us. They’ve already had it ripped away from them once, and even if it’s completely subconscious, some part of them is going to expect that to happen again. We’ve got eight-year-olds now, learning that music and arts programs are things that can be canceled at a moment’s notice.”

“You don’t think something like that will damage their passion for these subjects."

"But it will damage their _faith_ in them,” Die said. “How can they commit to studying and loving music, if their relationship with access to it is so unstable? I don’t want to give _kids_ that kind of complex."

There was another pause before Kyo said slowly, “I’m... sorry. I don’t want to give them a complex like that either.”

“I know.” Die rubbed at his collarbone. “It just hurt to hear them today, these little kids, saying music class is _pointless_ , not worth the time, ‘cause they can’t count on a performance at the end of it. It broke my heart.”

“That would break my heart, too,” Kyo said. Then he shrugged. “Or, more likely, I guess it would just really piss me off.”

“Oh, I was pissed, too," Die assured him. “Mostly at _you_ , for telling them.”

“I get that," Kyo said, “but, you know, telling them, not telling them… It doesn't change the facts. And I’m not the one actually shaking their faith in art, ‘cause I’m not the one taking it away."

Die nodded. "No, I know. You're, like, the only person trying to help me save the concert.”

Kyo grimaced. "So, no luck finding anyone to help volunteer, eh?"

“I’m gonna try to meet with the principal, see if we can make things happen.”

“Any way you can leave my name out of it?”

“Probably technically no, if you want your classes’ artwork displayed.”

“I don’t want my attachment to make it harder for you to succeed,” Kyo said. “If somehow, Hayashi is willing to work with you, but only if I’m not part of the deal, it’s not going to offend me if you take that offer.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Die said, rolling his eyes.

“I’m serious! Hayashi hates me, and the feeling is mutual, and I’ll still help you out if you’re able to save yourself by leaving me behind.”

Die stared at him. There was a hint of a teasing smile on Kyo’s face, and yet he seemed simultaneously 100% serious with what he was saying, and Die didn’t doubt his sincerity.

“Let's hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said.

The transition to actually having a guitar lesson was stilted and awkward, but there was some kind of comfort in the knowledge that at least they understood each other a little better now. Throughout the lesson, there were several times where they became distracted, and returned to conversation about the event they were planning.

“I assume it'll go better if I'm not there while you meet with the principal, obviously,” Kyo said as he was packing up his instrument, “but you’ll let me know how it goes immediately? And if there’s anything I can do to help that all go smoother—you don’t have my number, do you?”

Die was surprised that Kyo whipped out a pen right there to write down his phone number for him, when only a few days ago, he’d said they could stick to work email.

“Thank you, as always, for today,” Kyo said, bowing, as he handed over the slip of paper. “I apologize for my lack of focus.”

Die shook his head as he looked down at the paper. “Not at all. I’m glad we could talk through a few more details about everything. I mean, honestly, I probably shouldn’t even charge you for a lesson like this. I think we spent more time talking than I spent actually teaching you anything.”

Kyo’s face fell. “Don’t even say that. This is your livelihood. I’ll make sure that next time I want to discuss the event with you I approach you outside of class, so I’m not wasting your teaching time.”

“C’mon, you’re never _wasting_ my time. Anyway, it’s _your_ lesson, I just feel bad that you’re paying for conversation, when I’d just as happily talk to you about it outside of school.”

“Yeah?” Kyo arched an eyebrow. “You wanna talk about it more over dinner sometime, or something like that?”

Die was confused by the way Kyo was asking. To Die it had at first seemed like a casual suggestion, but what, did he mean it more like, as a _date_? Was Kyo just making fun of him, or did he really think having dinner together would be nice?

Before he could manage to properly phrase the question, Kyo was waving, thanking Die again for the lesson, and then seeing himself out. Die was left standing bewildered and alone in the music classroom.

Kyo really hadn’t given him a chance to state that he wouldn’t mind having dinner with him, in just a friendly way. And why not? Die had dinner with other faculty members from time to time, why would Kyo be any different?

Except that, of course, in Kyo’s experience, he _was_ different. Sad as it seemed to Die, it was highly unlikely that anyone else at the school had ever invited Kyo out to share a meal. No wonder he responded so strangely to the mere suggestion.

Die wanted to change that. He couldn’t change who Kyo was, and might not even have much success altering the way other people saw him, but he was determined at least for _his_ part, to never again treat Kyo as some outsider. He didn’t want to think of him as any less suitable company than any other teacher at the school, and with some luck, if he treated Kyo with more acceptance, in time, others would follow suit.

So, acknowledging a strange mournfulness that he probably wouldn’t hear from Kyo until next week, Die tried to recalibrate himself for the days ahead. With or without Kyo’s help, he had a lot of work to do if he still wanted his recital to make it off the ground, and not much time to do it.


	10. Chapter 10

“Come in,” Hayashi-sensei called, his voice carrying lazily through the office door.

Die drew himself up and slid the door open, bowing and greeting him with the utmost politeness. He’d arranged for the meeting with him, gone through the vice principal and all the proper channels, but still wasn’t at all shocked that the principal would want him practically crawling to him for help. Too often, that was just how things were done.

He took a seat in front of Hayashi’s desk when it was offered, and waited for permission to begin stating his case.

“You know, I was so sorry to have to cancel your music event,” Hayashi said, though he hardly seemed remorseful. “I hope you could understand my hands were tied. I'd really hoped that some solution would arise, but when it comes to the budget, there’s not a lot of wiggle room.”

“I understand that,” Die said. “It’s actually what I wanted to discuss—”

“I’m under so much pressure,” Hayashi continued, as if Die hadn’t spoken. “You can’t imagine. There are so many people watching me, breathing down my neck, so many expectations. And every year they’re just hacking away at what I have to work with, and that means making some difficult decisions.”

“I believe you,” Die said. He was starting to feel concerned by how the principal seemed more intent on defending his past actions than on listening to Die’s ideas.

“Of course I know you get it, you’re a reasonable man,” Hayashi said. “I just wanted to be sure you could see things from my perspective. I'd hate for you to think we aren't on the same team here. Now! What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

This, too, irritated Die, since a brief explanation of what he wanted to discuss had been given to Hayashi when they’d scheduled the meeting, but he ignored that twinge and launched into a description of his vision.

“Rather than taking money from the budget, we can fund any equipment rentals or necessary materials from ticket sales and additional fundraising at the event itself,” Die said. “There’s not a lot of time, and it'll take some effort, but as long as we’re cleared to use the school gym to host our event, I’m sure we’ll be able to bring all the pieces together.”

Hayashi-sensei was quiet for a moment when Die had finished this short spiel. Slowly he said, “You really think the gym will be a suitable location for what you have planned?”

“It’ll be fine, we’ve used it in the past,” Die said. “The stage is already there, so we’ll just have to bring in the risers, and the acoustics in there are decent. Plus, there’s a lot of wall space to hang the art.”

Something dangerous flickered in Hayashi’s eyes at that. “And you’re hoping for help from the school’s roster of parent volunteers?”

“I—Well, any assistance we could receive would be great,” Die said. “Especially keeping our nonexistent budget in mind, we’d be grateful for any volunteers you could send our way.”

Hayashi went quiet again, his eyes on a pen he twirled between his fingers. “I’m afraid it would be impossible for the school to officially offer you any assistance in the form of volunteers.” He set the pen down. “If you’re taking it upon yourself to make this happen, it’s more of a… personal project. Not affiliated with the school in any way.”

That caught Die slightly by surprise, but he didn’t want to start an argument over it. “I see… Well, we should be able to recruit our own volunteers, then.”

“And along those same lines, I won’t be able to offer you any additional pay for the work you’d be doing outside of school hours. Nor could I reimburse you for any purchases you make out of your own pocket.” Hayashi sniffed. “As I’ve said, there’s just no room in the budget, so you’d be sort of acting as volunteers yourselves.”

That, too, was a bit annoying, but less surprising, and Die nodded stiffly. “I don’t mind putting in some extra work for the kids’ sake.”

“And as for displaying the art in the gym…” Hayashi grimaced. “I just don’t see how I’d be able to allow that.”

Die was startled out of his agreeable stasis. “What?”

“ _Kyo_ ,” Hayashi said, as if even his name were distasteful, “is not exactly… Well, _you_ know, I’m sure. I _really_ want to do whatever I can to help you succeed, but I have to draw the line somewhere, and our school does have an image to protect. Displaying Kyo's classes’ work in the school gym, having it hang on our property, during school hours… I can’t take responsibility for it.”

Die was somewhat astonished by the impressive cowardice and shameless disrespect Hayashi-sensei was displaying, but that wasn’t helpful at the moment, so he tried to focus on finding a solution.

“So, what are you saying exactly?” he asked. “You’re not allowing his students’ art to be displayed on school grounds at all, even in the short-term? It’s the _students’_ art, _their_ school.” When Hayashi still made no move to answer, Die came up with another suggestion. “Suppose we bring in some art display panels, to hang the artwork? Put them up for the event, take them down immediately after, no residual schooltime 'responsibility' for anything shown?”

There was a long pause before Hayashi sniffed again. “I think we could make that work. As long as it's all torn down the same day, and you remember that’s all up to you to prepare.”

“I’m very aware.”

Hayashi grinned. “I'm so glad you came to talk to me! I have every confidence your event will be an utmost success. I’d love to attend, assuming I’m free that evening.”

Die didn’t laugh scornfully, even though he wanted to. “Of course, we’d be honored by your presence.”

Hayashi giggled through his nose and waved a hand. “You don’t have to be so formal just for me!”

In the end, Die managed to make it out of there without screaming, and he considered that to be a feat in and of itself. It wasn’t a total failure, even though Hayashi had seemed to do everything he could to be unhelpful. Infuriating as it was, at least Die could make all the proper arrangements himself, without worrying about not having permission to use the gym or something petty like that.

What struck Die as almost more stressful than beginning those arrangements was the prospect of talking to Kyo, telling him about the meeting he’d just come from. Maybe if he left out some details, Kyo wouldn’t be so angry.

Then again, Kyo wasn’t an idiot. He knew how the principal felt about him, had expected his attitude even more than Die had. It didn’t honestly seem to bother him as much as Die would have thought.

If it had been Die, he would have been _pissed._

And he was, on Kyo’s behalf. The whole situation was so ugly and unjust that it made more sense every day why Kyo had been in there cussing Hayashi out that day Die had first seen him. He was just slightly worried that Kyo might be tempted to do something along those lines again, which could only be harmful to their cause at this point.

Fortunately, he had a little more time to think on how he would approach the topic. If he could really downplay the bad bits and make it seem like a success for the most part, maybe Kyo would have no real reason to lose his temper.

He encountered Shinya first, in the staff room, and for some reason, despite Shinya’s lack of support for the whole idea to begin with, Die was moved to tell him all about his frustrating meeting with the principal.

Rather than some kind of I-told-you-so lecture, Shinya listened with a sympathetic expression, and then went to his bag.

“If it helps, I already got the tickets printed for your event,” he said, handing over the stack. “So, you’d better not try to change the date of it now.”

Die stared down at the tickets for a long while, oddly moved by Shinya’s loyalty and unsure how to respond to it.

“What’s wrong?” Shinya asked after a moment of Die’s silent staring. “Oh, no, please don’t tell me I’ve made a typo, what is it?”

Die shook his head. “No, no, there’s nothing wrong, I just… Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

“Oh,” Shinya said. “Well, sure, I’m glad I could help.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to help me,” Die admitted. “After what you said before, about teaming up with Kyo being a mistake.”

Shinya winced. “I didn’t mean it that way. Or, maybe I did, but I’m sorry, and I didn’t mean that I wouldn’t help. Think of the tickets as a peace offering?" He sighed and shifted his weight. "I just know... you have this romantic tendency to see the best in everyone, even when they’re not good for you. You put others first and don’t worry about yourself, and it’s admirable, but not always the healthiest way to live. You need to take care of yourself, too.”

Die didn’t know how to explain it to him. “This _is_ putting myself first,” he said. “Kyo’s involvement is to help _me_. Yes, we can help each other, but I swear to you, I’m not the one being selfless here.”

Shinya looked like he was going to argue further, but then he seemed to catch himself, and smiled instead. “I hope you’re right, and that I get to see this side of Kyo that you seem to know so much better than I do.”

Die wanted that, too, of course. At least mostly. There was some strange part of him that felt protective, almost _possessive_ of Kyo. like everyone else had had and lost their chance to see how great he was, and now Die wasn’t so sure he wanted to share.

The good news was that he was capable of recognizing how unreasonable that was, and he didn’t _actually_ think it. It was just some weird passing feeling, and he could ignore it easily enough.

It was a little less easy to ignore Shinya, even the argument that he didn’t make. Because Die knew what he was going to say, even when he didn’t let himself say it: bullshit about Die making things more difficult for himself by “letting” Kyo be involved. Shinya didn’t know how Kyo had offered to cut himself out of the event, if it would make things run smoother for Die. But that wasn’t what _Die_ wanted.

Shinya also didn’t know that there had been a moment where Die had thought Kyo was borderline flirting with him, with that talk about discussing the event over dinner, outside working hours.

It might have been the kind of thing Die normally would have told Shinya about; they were such close friends, and Die trusted him so much. He couldn’t tell exactly why he’d kept it to himself this time. Was it just because of Shinya’s previously displayed attitude towards Kyo, or was it because Die wanted to keep it truly private— _secret_? Was it just a response to how Shinya hadn't been as forthcoming with his own personal business recently? Or was the time for sharing such items between them past?

At any rate, Die couldn’t very well harbor feelings of resentment for Shinya after he’d taken the trouble to get tickets made for the concert. It was no longer just Kyo who was helping Die put everything together, and he was grateful for it.

As it happened, Shinya wasn’t the only help they’d gotten either.

Before Die went to teach his private lessons after school, Toshiya caught him in the staff room.

“Hey, I didn’t get to talk to you, but I know you had your meeting with Hayashi-sensei today,” he said, looking very concerned. “How did it go?”

Die sighed, and answered in a low voice. “Honestly? It sucked, he’s completely unwilling to help, and if I were a less controlled person, you probably would have heard me screaming at him, even from your desk.”

Toshiya grimaced. “I’m… very sorry to hear that.”

“Everyone’s been telling me I shouldn’t be surprised by his flagrant despotism, but somehow I can’t take much comfort from that. It doesn’t make it any better when someone is so…”

“He didn’t forbid you from holding your own event, though, did he?” Toshiya asked worriedly. “Like that would be—I guess _technically_ he _could_ , but—”

“He didn’t,” Die said, shaking his head. “We’re cleared to use the gym, it’s just… his attitude, you know? He’s determined to make everything as difficult for us as he possibly can.”

“But it’s still on! God, I’m so relieved,” Toshiya said. “Obviously, you can count on me to help with literally anything. I’m here for you.”

Die eyed him warily. Why would that be true? “Hayashi-sensei didn’t approve us to use any school resources,” he said. “He won’t even let us hang art on the gymnasium walls."

“In a purely voluntary capacity!” Toshiya said. “Also, seriously? That’s bullshit.”

“Yes, it is,” Die said. “But—Are you sure? You know you’re not obligated to help me out.”

Toshiya stared at him in confusion. “No, I’m—What? Are we not—I was thinking, you know, because we’re friends and everything.”

Whatever the right way to respond to that was was, Die was sure he fucked it up, not managing to school his facial expression at all. “Oh!” he said lamely.

“I…” Toshiya frowned at him. “Aren't we…?”

“Of course we are!” Die rushed to say. “I just—you’re still not _obligated_.”

“Right,” Toshiya said, his frown not letting up in the least. “I thought. You might need help with selling something, raffle tickets, or concessions or whatever, for your fundraiser.”

“Yeah, definitely!” Die said, too eagerly. “That would be amazing, would you really be down to help out with that?”

“Sure,” Toshiya said. “Just um. I dunno, keep in touch, let me know if you have specific ideas or anything. I’ll work on it, too.”

“Awesome. You’re the best,” Die said. It was too much and he knew it, but he really felt like shit for his initial reaction to Toshiya saying they were friends.

He didn't disagree that they were friends, not exactly. Really, it was touching to hear Toshiya affirm that he felt that way about their relationship.

Sometimes it was just hard to tell with him. Toshiya’s nature was a little bit tricky to follow. At times he could be excessively engaged, so up in everyone’s business, friendly and personable, that it seemed it couldn’t possibly be genuine; there was no way he could actually be besties with everyone who worked in the school.

On other occasions, though, he seemed distant and aloof. Die wouldn’t have called him _cold_ , but he kept his emotions close to his chest, and didn’t always share personal things about himself as freely as he heard them from other people. Die had known him for years, but wasn’t even sure whether or not he was married.

To a certain degree, Die knew part of that distance had to do with Toshiya’s job. They worked together, but Toshiya wasn’t a teacher like Shinya or Kaoru, or even Kyo. It wasn’t that Die didn’t respect Toshiya’s position, but his place in the administrative office meant that he worked for the principal pretty directly. He was at times bound by regulations that he couldn’t escape, not holding the power to combat Hayashi-sensei’s orders. It wasn’t his fault, but it made it difficult to get as close to him as Die was with some of his other colleagues.

He wouldn’t forget this, though, Toshiya’s offers to help, evidence of their friendship on Toshiya’s side, at least. Die was determined to earn it, to demonstrate, in equal measure, his loyalty to Toshiya as well.

“So the concert _definitely_ isn’t canceled?” Keisuke asked at the start of his private lesson. “Like, definitely, for sure?”

“We’ve been through this,” Die said. “We are doing everything in our power to make sure it goes on, in spite of the school’s budget’s shortcomings.”

“‘We’ being, you and Kyo?” Keisuke said, arching an eyebrow rather impressively for a ten-year-old. “Who you don’t like?”

“I did not say that I don’t like Kyo,” Die replied coolly. “And it won’t do for you to waste your lesson time with this kind of talk.”

“So then you _do_ like him.”

Die let out a sigh of frustration. He was more used to these lines of questioning from his female students, but now the boys were at it, too? How could he get them to butt out of his personal life? He was sure Kaoru didn’t have to deal with this kind of thing.

“He seems decent enough,” Die said. “He cares a lot about you students.”

Keisuke nodded. "When I was younger, I thought that’s just what all teachers are like, but now I see that he really works extra hard for us.”

“I’m sure all your teachers do the most they can for you,” Die said, choosing not to laugh at how this kid could be so nostalgic and retrospective so young. “For example, _I_ sit here repeatedly telling you to focus on practicing your guitar piece, instead of worrying about how hard your teachers work.”

Keisuke scrunched up his face. “If the concert was canceled, I wouldn’t have to play my solo piece.”

Die looked at him sadly. “Do you not want to? I… won’t _force_ you to perform, but I thought this would be a great chance for you, to show everyone how much you’ve improved.”

Keisuke shrugged, scuffed the toe of his indoor shoe on the floor. “I mean, I dunno. Everyone else is gonna be doing their solos, I guess?”

“You certainly won’t be the only one,” Die assured him.

“And it’s not gonna be canceled?”

“Not if there’s a chance in the world of making it happen.”

With the sigh of a put-upon, much older man, Keisuke said, “ _Fine_ , I’ll practice, but only ‘cause my grandmother is coming to the concert.”

“Well, thank you for doing both me and her the favor,” Die said, laughing, and really, by the end of the lesson, he thought Keisuke’s solo was in great shape.

The sky was just starting to darken when Keisuke headed home, and Die was idly mulling over his dinner options as he closed up the music classroom, when he heard footsteps in the hall behind him.

At first he thought Keisuke had forgotten something, but it only took half a glance to realize the person approaching was actually Kyo.

Die looked at him in confusion. “What are you doing here so late?”

"Waiting for you?" Kyo said, looking just slightly sheepish. “I’d said I wasn’t gonna talk about event stuff with you while you were working, so I had to wait until you finished your lessons…"

“Shit, I’m sorry," Die said. “You could have—Never mind, why did you wanna talk, is something wrong?”

Kyo’s forehead creased. “Well, no, but… I thought you were planning on meeting with Hayashi today, and I hadn’t heard anything from you…”

“ _Shit_ ,” Die said again, his head dropping back.

“…Which maybe I should have just taken to mean that it went badly…”

“No, I just meant to get in touch with you, but I didn’t.”

Kyo raised an eyebrow. “You just. Didn’t. Did you, uh, forget where my classroom was?”

“No—”

“Or maybe you lost my phone number.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry, okay? I just got really—distracted.”

It wasn’t a good excuse, not even to Die’s own ears. He didn’t know why exactly he’d so dropped the ball on keeping Kyo updated. He’d meant to tell him from the beginning; he’d just been waiting until he could calm down and tell the story in the least offensive and infuriating way possible. It looked as though he'd missed his window for that.

He couldn’t tell whether Kyo really accepted his claim of being distracted or not. There wasn’t much showing on his face, and Die suspected that wasn’t a good thing, but no matter how he wanted to be closer, be friendlier with Kyo, he only ever seemed to make things worse.

“I talked to Hayashi,” Die said finally, his voice pitched low, though there was no one else about on the floor. “We can use the gym.”

“…That’s it?”

“That’s the short version, which is what I’m giving you at the moment,” Die said. “He said a few other things that pissed me off, and I guess that’s why I didn’t contact you right away. I wanted a chance to try and fix some of them on my own.”

“So some things are broken, then.”

Die shook his head. “Nothing we can’t handle.” He reached into his bag and pulled out the bundle he’d received from Shinya. “We’ve got tickets!”

“Where’d you get those?” Kyo asked in surprise.

Some part of Die didn’t want to bring Shinya into the conversation, so he said vaguely, “A friend had them made for us. Got volunteers onboard for working concessions, too, if we get that bake sale stuff together.”

“Oh, yeah? Great, I’ve got some people to help with set-up and takedown.”

Somehow that caught Die completely off-guard. “Wait, what? You recruited volunteers?”

Kyo gave him a look like he was stupid. “Yeah…? What, you thought I was just gonna leave all the work to you? How big of a dick do you think I am, anyway?”

“Not big at all! I mean—I just thought…” Die trailed off. He couldn’t very well say he assumed Kyo was such a social outcast that he couldn’t have friends of his own who might want to help, or that he’d never be able to recruit volunteers himself with that prickly personality, so he just stopped talking.

“Well,” Kyo said, still eyeing him strangely. “It’s good, seems like we’ve got pretty much most of the major jobs covered.”

“I guess so,” Die agreed.

“Okay then.” Kyo put his hands in his pockets and started to back away. “How about just text me if you think of anything else important Hayashi said?”

“Will do.” Die smiled, but he was sure it was obvious that it was forced, and he waited until Kyo turned and started down the stairs before he moved, even though they were going the same direction.

If they were going to be working together, it might be necessary for Die to get over whatever his weird complex was with speaking to Kyo like a normal person, and that had probably better happen sooner rather than later.


	11. Chapter 11

Time seemed to move both slower and more quickly when there was something so important looming up ahead.

Things were progressing, but every day Die woke up disoriented and terrified, thinking it was the day _of_ the concert, that he’d run out of time. His propensity for nightmares was not helping with his mental stability.

Every time he woke up, he’d be relieved to find it _had all been a dream_ , only to then panic a minute later trying to remember what the _real_ date was, and then, once he was relieved to find he still had time to prepare, he’d panic _again_ over how much there still was to do. It was a brutal cycle.

He tried not to let his fragility show too much in front of his students and colleagues. No one else needed to know how badly he was handling it, or to be demoralized by his infectious anxiety.

There was almost no _reason_ for it anyway. Everything was really going _smoothly_ , as much as such a thing could be said, under the circumstances. All the necessary orders had been made, to see to it that they would have risers, mics, and display panels for the art. They’d even managed to get a nice discount on some of the equipment since the father of one of the students worked for the rental company.

Their band of volunteers had grown, everyone bright and enthusiastic about the project, no one daring to complain about putting in a few extra hours. Die had managed to delegate various responsibilities, putting Shinya in charge of recording donations and Toshiya handling everything to do with the bake sale, but it didn’t feel like his load had been lightened as much as he might have hoped. He should have been relieved; Kyo’s classes had plastered posters up around town, and word of mouth had done wonders for the publicity. Pretty much everyone Die could think of (except perhaps Kaoru) had promised wholeheartedly that they would be in attendance.

Perhaps what really made it difficult for Die was that nothing else stopped so that he could give the event his full attention. His regular classes and lessons still continued; he still had his tutoring sessions with Freddy. Nothing was put on hold while he was busy working on one important event.

If anything, it seemed like he had more extra responsibilities than usual. The end of the year was rapidly approaching, including the holidays that came with it. The staff drinking parties were more plentiful than ever, and Die’s bank account was definitely feeling the pain of that, along with the down payments he'd been making on rentals. It was also possible that an increase in his weekly drinking was only worsening his nightmare situation.

On top of that, he was tormented by emails every waking moment of his life, and he’d started to have the recurring fantasy of smashing his smartphone violently with one of those big mochi-pounding mallets, as if it would bring him some symbolic freedom from the incessant stream of work and demands and polite business formality.

He’d managed to get out of the nomikai earlier than usual one night, and had time to actually send some replies before falling into bed with his ibuprofen and passing out.

For the most part, there was nothing unexpected in his inbox. He had messages from the rental companies he’d been in touch with, someone wanted to adjust the time of their private lesson—all regular, everyday emails.

There was also one from a woman at the local public library.

“ _Dear Andou-san,_

_I work in public outreach, especially with our community’s children, and have been looking into starting some new kid-friendly programs here at the library. I’ve heard from a few people that you have expertise in both English and music, and received your contact information from a colleague of yours at the elementary school._

_Of course I understand that this is a busy season, but I would like very much to arrange a time to meet, if you’re willing, perhaps in the new year. Please reply at your leisure. I look forward to hearing from you._

_Respectfully yours,_

_Yamamoto Kaoru”_

_Hm_ , Die thought to himself, _another Kaoru_.

He couldn’t really visualize the sort of program she was suggesting he get involved in. Ashamed as he was to admit it, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been out to that library, so he was definitely questioning just who she’d gotten her information from. In any case, he didn’t have much capacity to think about new projects just now, so he saved the email, and put any thoughts about it on the back-burner for the time being.

Of course, he wasn’t as skilled with that as he liked to think he was, and found the worry creeping into his mind throughout the following day. Every time he started to feel overwhelmed by everything he needed to do, he’d also remember that looming email: yet another thing he needed to respond to, even once the holidays were finished.

Die felt distracted all through his tutoring session with Freddy, and he was sure it was noticeable, even to the first-grader.

“My mommy got me my own box of sticks,” Freddy was saying, in English, as clearly Die’s distraction had rubbed off on him. “Guess what I’m going to build with them, can you guess? We ordered them from Amazon.”

Vaguely, Die seemed to remember having heard something about this sticks business before, but he couldn’t call up any details. “Um… a craft?”

Freddy rolled his eyes—a show of attitude that surely would have landed him in huge trouble with any other teacher—and said, “Yes, of _course_ a craft, but _what_?”

“Give me a hint,” Die said, pointedly in Japanese, trying to return them to some semblance of studying. “I can’t remember if you told me before, so I’ll guess.

Freddy considered, then, switching to Japanese himself, said, “It’s something you build.”

That wasn’t very helpful. “Is it a… picture frame?”

“No way!” Freddy said, wrinkling his nose.

“Okay, okay. Is it something you can use?”

Eagerly, Freddy nodded. “Can use, yeah! Ah—but—but people don’t use.”

“People don’t use?” Die repeated with a frown. “So… can animals use it instead?”

Again, Freddy nodded, so excited he could hardly contain himself.

Die had to think about what animals might use that a six-year-old could build out of “sticks,” but eventually it came to him. “A birdhouse?”

Freddy slammed his small hands on the desk gleefully. “A birdhouse!!”

“That sounds very cool,” Die said. “How did you have the idea?”

“From Kyo-sensei’s class,” Freddy said. “I asked if I could have the sticks from his class, but he said he needed them. He wrote down the name from the box though, and told Mommy where we could buy.”

“Amazon.”

“They brought it to my house!!”

“Yep, they do that,” Die said. “That was nice of Kyo-sensei to write that info down for you. I hope you told him thank you.”

“He would probably write it down for you, too, if you ask him.”

Die choked on a laugh. “Yeah, I guess he probably would.”

Freddy had been doing better, according to Shinya, but it wasn’t a straight or easy path to improvement. He’d have good days, then suddenly get into a screaming match with someone during the lunch hour. The kids spread rumors about him, and even though he was working on developing the skills to tell his side of the story, he reacted to every situation with such extreme defensiveness that he wasn’t always taken seriously.

He was better in music class. Sure, like many of the other students, he seemed to have some disregard for Die’s authority, but he was bright and excited about the music. Die wondered if he had a similar passion in art class.

It was raining by the time Die returned Freddy to his classroom, and Die thought of Freddy’s birdhouse—it might really serve to shelter some birds in the dreary weather.

The rain didn’t let up the rest of the day.

At times like this, Die was truly relieved that he usually drove to work. He didn’t care how much people prattled on in their smalltalk about what a blessing the rain was, how much good it did, making things grow and so on and so forth. Die couldn’t stand getting his hair wet, and he would have been at a loss if he’d had to walk even to the train station in such an abysmal deluge.

It was coming down even harder as everyone was leaving for the day, and the roads in front of the school were a sea of umbrellas as people struggled to make their way home. Koji even canceled his guitar lesson after school in favor of getting a ride home earlier with his cousin, so Die had only one private student in the afternoon.

He didn’t waste any time once the lesson was finished before locking up and booking it to his car. Driving in the rain was bad enough without it being dark, too.

So, he managed to pull out of the school parking lot before he totally lost daylight, and it was easy to see a slight, windblown figure as he turned onto the street, trudging soaking wet along the road. He didn’t have to get all that close either, to recognize that it was Kyo, having made it just a short distance from the school, and with no umbrella at all,

“Jesus, what is he doing, trying to get pneumonia?” Die muttered to himself, and without a second thought, he pulled up alongside Kyo, cracking the window just enough to call his name.

It took three tries for him to even notice, and when he did turn, Kyo spent a few seconds looking at him in confusion.

“Get in the fucking car!” Die shouted with a wild gesture.

For a moment it looked like Kyo might actually dare to argue, so Die hit the horn, and he jumped and came up to the passenger side of the car.

“I’m going to get your seat all wet,” he said as he got in, rain water dripping from his hair and clothes.

“Ask me if I care,” Die said. “You’re gonna make yourself sick walking home in this. Why the hell don’t you have an umbrella?”

“I gave it to one of the kids,” Kyo answered with a shrug. “I can handle myself, but no kid should be walking in this downpour.”

It wasn’t really surprising, Die supposed. He’d come to learn of Kyo’s selflessness firsthand. But, still, “You shouldn’t be, either.”

“Sometimes none of the choices we have are good ones.”

Kyo quickly gave Die directions to his home, and then slumped in his seat, pushing his wet hair back from his face.

“Is that why you work at the school, too?” Die asked, distracted by his own train of thought, and giving voice to something he’d been wondering about for a while.

Kyo looked at him, puzzled. “Is what why I work at the school?”

“Because you didn’t have some better choice.”

Kyo scoffed. "No, I... What makes you say that? Is that the rumor?”

“No rumor,” Die said. “I just don’t get it, I guess. You’re a talented artist, but I wouldn’t say your style is exactly conducive to an elementary school classroom.”

“Since when are you an art critic?"

“That’s not—I just mean, doesn’t it limit you?” Die stared through the grey of the rain in front of him, windshield wipers providing a stilted accompaniment to their conversation. “How can you be free to express yourself surrounded by children, ‘concerned’ parents breathing down your neck?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“But no one’s arguing that my wordless guitar music is corrupting the minds of the youth, or giving them inappropriate ideas.”

“I guess they say that about my art, huh?”

“My point is that you’re _good_ ,” Die said impatiently. He was aware of how much he was starting to sound like Kaoru, but maybe he was just understanding those lectures for the first time. “You could have a career, just making your own art for your own audience, I’m sure of it. There are a lot of options for you besides kids."

“Kinda sounds like you're tryin’ to get rid of me,” Kyo said, and chuckled, but there wasn’t much humor in the sound. He went quiet then, until he said, “Actually, though, I chose to teach. I wanted to work with kids.”

Die waited for him to go on, figuring there was probably some backstory here.

“I told you before, I respect kids. I think they deserve to have adults in their lives that will listen to them, tell them the truth.”

It was true that it wasn't the first time Die had heard Kyo say something along those lines. “You think most teachers lie to kids?”

“I didn’t say that," Kyo said. “But I know I can give them an honest experience.” He was looking out the window, pensive and almost sad. “There are things I could have really used, growing up. I have this chance now to be that, that mentor or support system, for kids who are struggling or who don’t have role models.”

It wasn’t what Die had been expecting. Kyo really saw himself as a _role model_ for grade school children? "What do you think you offer that they need?”

He really didn’t mean for it to sound skeptical or accusatory, but once the words were hanging in the air, he could see how they might be heard that way, and wished he could vacuum them back into his mouth.

Kyo didn’t bother with being offended. He just said, “Proof that people like me exist. That there’s more than one way to be an adult, and that if what you want to do is make art and pierce your ears and walk in the rain, that’s valid. Maybe that's me being a ‘bad influence,’ but if setting a _good_ example is all about being buttoned-up and repressed, hiding reality from their impressionable eyes like it’s something shameful, then—I don’t know, I just don’t see how much good that really does them.”

Die nodded slowly. “So your purpose is to be more real, more open?”

“Within reason,” Kyo said. “Not like I come in and announce to my roomful of third-graders, ‘ _Hey, guess who I fucked this weekend!_ ’ But when they ask me something, like whether I have a girlfriend, I give them an honest answer, and say, ‘No, but I have a boyfriend.’”

Die’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. He hadn’t expected the conversation to take that turn; certainly, _he_ hadn’t been trying to direct it there, and it caught him off-guard. The sound of the rain outside had vanished, and all he could hear was his own blood pounding in his ears. He needed to say something before Kyo was uncomfortable and got the idea that he was a homophobe.

All he managed to come up with was, “You have a boyfriend?”

There was a pause, and Die was 100% sure Kyo was pissed. That was the wrong thing to say, it was none of his business, and Kyo was probably going to storm out of the car, rain or no.

“Well,” Kyo said eventually, “No. But if I did, I’d be honest about it.”

Die hoped that his sigh of relief came out silently, that Kyo wouldn’t pick up on the weird tension in the car. He found he really admired Kyo’s answer. Die wished he could be so comfortable with himself, but even if he wasn’t closeted, strictly speaking, he’d spent too long thinking there were certain things he couldn’t share with anyone, things he ought to be ashamed of. There was enough to worry about as it was, with regard to people's perceptions of him. He'd worked hard to balance his image of being fun and approachable without losing authority and respect, and that was without getting too deep into his personal life. He was more comfortable with his own sexuality and identity now than he had been growing up, but he still had moments where he felt impelled to keep it quiet. He respected Kyo for how fearless he seemed to be, whether or not he felt fear inside.

It might not have been the right thing to follow up with, but Die said, “Guess you should get on that, then. Find you a boyfriend, so you can tell people about it.”

Kyo let out an amused snort. “I’m keepin’ my eyes open.”

But when Die glanced over, Kyo’s eyes were on him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right all riiight time for some clichés you know we love 'em~

The week of the recital was one of the most stressful of Die’s career. Everything was happening at once, it was all coming together, and it ought to have been more than enough to keep his attention, but for some reason his thoughts kept straying back to Kyo, back to the conversation they’d had in Die’s car.

Every time he learned something new about Kyo it was like stoking a fire, making him want to know more and more. The way Kyo talked so honestly about himself, about the support he wanted to offer the kids, even when he knew that he got backlash from parents and faculty alike, had made Die feel—things he hadn’t felt in a long while. It intrigued him. And after he’d finally dropped Kyo off at his home, watched him walk calmly through the rain to his apartment building’s entrance, Die had gone back to his own place, more intrigued than ever.

The confirmation that Kyo liked men, and that he was out, made Die almost more nervous to be around him—not because he thought Kyo would make a pass at him or anything like that, but because it seemed more real. It was _possible_ suddenly, that Die’s strange, uncertain fascination with Kyo could turn into something, and that meant Die was forced to consider what he really _wanted_. Did he want Kyo?

There were times when it seemed like they might be flirting, and Die certainly wasn’t opposed to that. But there were also times when Kyo seemed very deliberately to pull away from him, like he didn’t want Die getting too close, either physically or emotionally. There may have been some projection there on Die’s part, but he still hesitated to make a move, in case it wasn’t what Kyo wanted.

Or, he told himself that was why he hesitated. It might have just been that he was afraid. Kyo was so much more sure of himself than Die, and that was intriguing but also intimidating. Die had always believed it to be so vitally important that he make other people happy, that everyone he met liked him from the get-go, found him agreeable and appealing. Kyo seemed to have the complete opposite philosophy, and that put him on the other side of a glass Die could only dream of breaking through.

They were still working together, though, every day, making all the final preparations. Die knew all the display panels they’d rented were being stored in Kyo’s classroom, art already arranged on them during Kyo’s free time. He’d politely declined Die’s offers to help, saying he had enough other things to worry about, and that wasn’t untrue.

There was still a concern that they might not break even. It was supposed to be a fundraiser, but so far most of the money had come from Die and Kyo’s own pockets, as they’d had to pay upfront to rent most of the equipment. The school wasn’t going to cover any of their costs, so they were completely dependent on the success of the event, and that stress was ever-present in Die’s mind.

Additionally, that week leading up to the show, he was still teaching his regular private lessons outside of standard school hours; since most of his private students would be performing solos at the recital it was important for them to get in as much rehearsal as possible, even with the tightness of Die’s schedule.

To his surprise, even Kyo didn’t opt to cancel his weekly lesson. He just moved it to Thursday from its regular Friday afternoon slot.

Die could help but quietly point out that they might have used that time to finalize a few things for the following night’s undertaking.

Kyo shrugged off his concern. “You don’t think we could use a little break from all that? Plus, at least you actually get _paid_ for my lessons. More than you can say for your work on our event.”

“I guess that much is true.” Die looked Kyo up and down. The guitar was on his lap, but he seemed less focused than usual. Maybe it was just the nearness of the culmination of all their work. “Now, did you actually want to _play_ or are you gonna sit there talkin’ about it?”

Kyo scoffed, but adjusted his hold on the instrument. “Like you weren’t the one to bring it up.”

“I’d understand if you wanted to get some last-minute practice in before you had to perform or what have you, but,” Die said, and then paused. “Do you want to?”

“Practice?”

“Perform. It’s not too late for us to make some adjustments to the program if you want to try and play something.”

Kyo’s nose wrinkled, and Die did not mean for the word _cute_ to spring to mind but it did anyway. “I don’t think my guitar-playing is quite at performance level yet,” Kyo said. “Besides tomorrow night should be for the kids. I don’t want to take any attention away from them with my bumbling rendition of ‘Wonderwall.’”

Die laughed. “C’mon, you’re not that bad.”

“I believe you’re obligated to say that as my instructor.”

“I am absolutely not,” Die assured him. “My obligation as your instructor is more to tell you where your weaknesses are and how to improve. And to keep you from playing ‘Wonderwall.’”

Kyo half-smiled and shook his head. “Maybe I can play something next time, at a recital that wasn’t so hard to come by.” He shrugged one shoulder. “You know, I’m not trying to be a really great guitarist anyway. I’d just like to play well enough to accompany myself.”

Die suppressed the unhelpful urge to offer his own services as accompanist, and instead tried to redirect them to focus on the piece Kyo was learning.

He’d improved a lot. So much that Die almost wanted to pick up the argument again, try to persuade Kyo to perform. Then again, he’d love to wait until another time, when Kyo was more comfortable, and he might get to actually hear him accompanying himself. Kyo never sang during their lessons, but something all too interested fluttered within Die at the mere thought of getting to hear him.

It was Kyo who unexpectedly interrupted the lesson to start talking again, saying, “What about you, will you be playing anything?”

“I guess I'll bring a ukulele for myself, in case I’m needed,” Die said, “but I’m planning on just watching. The music should all be made by students. We’ve got a 6th grader who’s gonna direct, and the student accompanists are stepping up, so Shinya won’t be playing piano for them, either.”

“Right,” Kyo said, his gaze turned down towards the instrument in his lap. “He’ll still be there, though. He wouldn’t miss it.”

“Well, sure,” Die said, a little puzzled. Kyo had been brought up to speed about Shinya's volunteer involvement already, and he'd taken the news actually better than Die had expected. He reminded him, “He’s working the donations table for us.”

“Is that all?” Kyo said, his voice oddly quiet. “Or is he also coming as, like, your date?”

“As—huh? What?” No matter what Die might have thought Kyo would say on this subject, he’d never seen anything like that coming. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to accuse you of anything,” Kyo said quickly. “Is it supposed to be a secret? It’s just, you know, kids talk…”

Die did know all too well that the students were some of the worst gossips he’d ever encountered, but still. “They talk about _that_? To _you_?”

“I’ve just gathered that the two of you are kind of a _thing_ ,” Kyo said. “Not because I _asked_ —it’s none of my business—but it seemed to be more or less common knowledge.”

“It’s not,” Die argued. “I mean. Okay, there’s something to what you’ve heard, but not… It’s ancient history. Shinya and I haven’t been like that in a long time.”

Had they? Die had been sure they were just _friends_ now—good friends, but it was a transformation of a relationship, not a loss. They just didn’t have those kind of feelings for each other anymore.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” Kyo said, and before Die could stop him, he was already packing up his instrument. “I guess we’re about out of time.”

Maybe Die still should have said to wait, assured Kyo that he wasn’t prying, finished clearing the air, instead of letting him run out of there like he was being chased. But there was still a lot to prepare before the event, so it was better to take the time to focus on that.

Or, again, that’s what he told himself, anyway.

Once he was alone though, he found himself caught up in thoughts of Shinya. He really _wasn’t_ romantically interested in him anymore; he knew that was part of their past and not their future. Shinya, on the other hand, wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve. He could have been harboring feelings that he didn’t _tell_ Die about—or worse, ones Die was supposed to be able to pick up on on his own. He’d never been great at registering when people were interested in him.

Was that the real reason Shinya had been so suddenly willing to help with everything? Could it even have explained some of Shinya’s negative attitude towards Kyo—some misguided jealousy?

Maybe it was insane and narcissistic for such a thought to even occur to Die, but it would sort of explain a few things, wouldn’t it? The bigger question became: if Shinya _was_ still interested, how did Die want to respond?

It was absolutely not the kind of thing that should have been occupying his mind while he tried to prepare for the recital. He could deal with all that later, but preparations for the event had to happen _now_.

In a way, it was already enough of a distraction just to be working alongside Kyo, the two of them figuring out all the final decorations only a couple hours before the doors were scheduled to open, some loud rock playlist blasting from Kyo’s phone.

A handful of volunteers that Kyo had recruited had set up the risers for the performance and were still occupied with lining up rows of folding chairs for the audience. It left Kyo and Die free to arrange the panels displaying the students’ art around the perimeter of the gymnasium.

“I could have gotten one of the other guys to help me out with this,” Kyo pointed out as they were finishing their task. “I know there’s other stuff you could be working on.”

“I’m happy to do this,” Die said as they hauled the last panel off the wheeled cart they’d been dragging around so they could set it up. “I’m happy about all of this. It’s finally happening, you know?”

“Yeah, well,” Kyo sighed. “I’ll be glad when it’s over.”

Die kept his facial expression in check. He could definitely understand how Kyo would feel that way about the whole ordeal, but he himself wasn’t sure he shared the sentiment. It would be nice, yes, to put the stress and planning behind him, but he would miss some things about it, too—not least of which, how the event allowed him to work with Kyo.

“I guess it’ll be a relief to have it finished,” he said.

Kyo must have noticed something in his tone, because he turned to give him a questioning look. “We’re not even getting paid for any of this.”

“I know,” Die said. “I mean, no, I agree with you. It’s been frustrating, I just. I don’t have—all of this, it’s part of the job—I _should_ be getting paid for it.”

“Just another reason this school fucking sucks,” Kyo said under his breath.

“Still better than the last school I worked at,” Die said with a shrug.

“Yeah? What was wrong with that place?”

Die wobbled his head side to side, and leaned on the cart to start it moving again, where they could leave it out of the way. “It wasn’t that it was _bad_. They were just pretty conservative, and it was—I’m really glad I was able to move to here. They were kinda uptight at my old school.”

“Kind of old-school, you might say?”

“That’s bad.”

Kyo laughed. “You set me up for it.”

They’d finished with putting up all the artwork, and moved on to the seasonal decorations that had been acquired—mostly garlands and snowflakes, along with a huge banner Kyo’s classes had worked on, wishing everyone a Happy Holidays, to be hung across the front of the stage.

Slinging some garland over his shoulder, Kyo grabbed a stapler and started out for another trip around the gym. “It’s true, though,” he said. “I can’t exactly picture you in a really conservative environment.”

Die followed after him with a step-ladder. “No?”

“I mean, the regulation haircut, the boring suits every day?” Kyo positioned the step-ladder and climbed it, balancing to hang some garland. “Doesn’t track with the version of you that I know.”

“I was a different person back then,” Die said. “Or, at least, I was hiding the person I want to be. Even more than I am now.”

“There’s no shame in that,” Kyo said, as he came down the ladder and started off walking again, apparently expecting Die to follow once more. “We all change, and grow, and discover more of ourselves and who we want to be. No one starts off knowing exactly who they are.”

Die was tempted to argue. It seemed like everyone else had such a clear image of themselves, and Kyo most of all. Kyo was so sure of himself that his confidence couldn’t be shaken even by the bulk of the faculty talking shit behind his back; he felt zero shame signing up for guitar lessons as an adult with no experience; he wouldn’t even hesitate to tell a classroom full of loud-mouthed children that he was dating a man—assuming they asked first. Die couldn’t imagine Kyo was one who ever had to worry about being steamrolled over, who thought obsessively about how other people perceived him.

He kept these thoughts to himself, since presumably Kyo already knew all of it without being told, and went on trailing after Kyo, carrying the step-ladder for him like some kind of golf caddie.

They were almost finished with the garland when Kyo finally broke the silence and spoke again.

“I think it’s good that you’re here now,” he said, though his attention seemed to be solely on the garland he was stapling to the wall. “You’re good for the kids.”

The words caught Die by surprise, the casual tone with which they were spoken almost moreso. After all Kyo’s talk about “lying” to the students and how important it was to be real, Die had figured Kyo had kind of a problem with him and how he interacted with children. It wasn’t common for him to hear Kyo talk positively about—anyone, really.

He could use that as an excuse for why he was totally spaced out when a moment later, Kyo reached out for the other end of the garland Die was supposed to be handing him, and overbalanced, half falling off the step-ladder, and only catching himself by dropping everything and grasping Die’s shoulders with both hands.

The stapler and the loose end of the garland fell to the floor as Die scrambled to support Kyo, and time did a weird slowing down thing as they were stuck like that, their faces mere centimeters apart. Die meant to help right Kyo immediately, but a swooping feeling in his stomach made him think he was falling, too, and he couldn’t look away from Kyo’s eyes, wide with surprise, and _warmer_ than Die had ever noticed before.

At length, Kyo got his own feet under him, and said quietly, “You can let go now.”

Die only just stopped himself from springing back like he’d been burned, and dropped his hands quickly from where they’d glued themselves around Kyo’s narrow waist. “I’m—Sorry, I should have—”

“Thank you for catching me.” Kyo stepped down, bent to pick up the fallen items, and Die did _not_ end up staring at his ass as he did so, much. Standing upright again, Kyo gave him a look. “You know, you’re taller than me. Doesn’t it make more sense for _you_ to be the one on the ladder trying to hang things?”

Die laughed awkwardly (because what else could he do?), and held out his hand for the garland. “It took you till the _last one_ to make that suggestion. I just assumed you liked getting up on ladders. Makes you feel like a normal-height person.” He grinned over his shoulder as he climbed the steps.

Kyo rolled his eyes, but there was a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. He offered up the stapler, doing his part on the ground much more reliably than Die had done.

Once that was up, they started putting away all the extra equipment. A couple other volunteers had put up the banner in front of the stage, the chairs were arranged, and all the decorations were in place. It was almost time to open doors. The last things going into position were the tables for concessions and donations, right where the audience would be walking in. Tickets would be available for purchase for those who hadn’t bought them in advance, at a slightly raised price, which was good because actually, their pre-sales had been… disappointing. With the confusion over whether the event was actually happening or not, not nearly as many parents had bought tickets in advance as they’d hoped, and Die didn’t want to be a pessimist, but he was _still_ pretty worried that they wouldn’t break even.

Checking the time, Die took a deep breath. “Kids are gonna start showing up any minute. I need to go change so I can get them ready.”

Kyo nodded, his smile softer than usual. “Go. I can handle anyone who turns up here, tell them where you guys are meeting.”

Die opened his mouth to ask if Kyo needed to change his clothes, too, but as he allowed himself to look him up and down, the question dried up in his mouth. Kyo already looked— _damn_ good, in a loose, subtly-patterned button-up and tight black pants. It was just a smidge dressier than what he usually wore to school, and Die was surprised he hadn’t noticed earlier.

Then again, maybe that was why his eyes had been so drawn to his backside.

Kyo’s head tipped to one side. “You okay?”

Die blinked a few times and cleared his throat. “Yeah! I’m—Yeah, great. We’re doing this! Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

And he hurried away before he could do anything to make a bigger fool of himself.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finallyyy, they can have the recital!  
> And also: This story is going on a very short hiatus after this chapter! Probably just a week or so, at any rate the next chapter will go up by Halloween. I just need to take a minute to catch up on some editing, and possibly post something for another fandom, and since this is sort of the end of the First Part of this story, think of it as an intermission! Regular updates will continue soon, thank you for your patience~

Whatever fears they’d had about not selling enough tickets proved to be completely baseless, as there was a line around the gym before they'd even opened the doors.

Die could see the mass of queueing parents and community members from his station across from the gym, where the music students were assembling to get their instruments warmed up and receive any last-minute notes and instructions.

A volunteer—a student teacher Kyo had brought, who Die didn’t know well—was there to help him out, taking attendance of the students, marking them off as they arrived, leaving Die free to focus on more nuanced areas of the pre-show work. He had his student pianists and conductor prepped and ready to go, had sixth grade student leaders set to manage groups of younger kids, and all the while his eyes kept flitting back to the crowd of people filing into the gym.

“Looks like we’ll have a full house,” he commented to Keisuke who hadn’t joined the other fifth-graders, busy as he was tuning his guitar. “Bet you’re glad I made you practice that solo now.”

“I might still embarrass myself,” Keisuke said, “but hurray, at least there will be a lot of people watching.”

Die wasn't worried about anyone embarrassing themselves, and he _tried_ not to worry about how things were going inside the gym. They’d prepared everything, and if anything arose, Kyo was there to sort it out, and suddenly, almost to his surprise, Die found he really trusted Kyo, without even having to try. This was their event, equally, and even without Die there to supervise, it was in good hands.

It also helped that he knew Toshiya and Shinya were there dealing with their entrusted aspects of the evening. He’d seen Toshiya show up just after he’d gotten back from changing his clothes, and although he hadn’t seen Shinya, he had no doubt he was there too, quietly doing his part as he always did. Any overly analytic thoughts about _why_ he did that, or what he and Die meant to each other were nicely smothered to be picked through later, preferably _after_ all the chaos of tonight’s event.

As he was counting the students who were already in place, Die spotted Kaoru out of the corner of his eye, among the audience members lined up at the door, and a smile broke over his face. Kaoru might not be as quick to offer his assistance as some of the other faculty, but it was nice to know that he was still willing to show his support in his own way.

A few of the older students clearly saw him, too, and Die heard them whispering about him, wondering what kind of response to expect from their teacher with his reputation for being considerably stricter than Die could ever hope to be.

“Don't let yourselves get psyched out knowing who’s in the audience,” Die told them. “You can’t control who’s out there or what they think of you.”

“This is starting to sound like a speech we’d hear in Kyo’s class,” one of the boys said, and a few others snickered in agreement.

Die tried not to be affected by that. “Well, he’s right. We’re both right.”

The students weren’t necessarily convinced, but Die had other things to worry about, like Freddy accidentally terrorizing several of his classmates in his excitement for the upcoming performance.

Die knelt down to his eye level. “Hey, are you going to be able to listen, or should I tell your mom you’re not ready for this?”

Immediately, Freddy went on the defensive, stamping a tiny foot on the ground. “I _am_ listening! I didn’t _do_ anything!”

There wasn’t time to get into an argument about it. “I didn’t say you’d done anything. I just want to make sure you’ll _keep_ listening.”

Freddy nodded emphatically. “I will!” He held out a hand for a pinky promise, and Die accepted it.

He sent Freddy back to wait with the rest of his age group, but whispered to the student leader to fetch him right away if there was any trouble. He really hoped Freddy would take his promise seriously.

As the official start time for the recital drew nearer, the flow of audience members into the gym petered out, and after one final brief pep talk, Die herded the children in with their instruments to begin the performance.

There was applause as they entered, and the two sixth grade girls leading the group stood at the front to make introductions while everyone else lined up on the risers. They hadn't gotten a chance to practice on the actual risers beforehand, but with some of the older students guiding the younger ones, they managed to fill in the space without too much trouble. Die fell back to lean against the side wall of the gym; there was nothing more for him to do. As long as he’d done his job well, the student leaders could handle it from here.

He watched proudly as they started the first song, led by Kenta, the designated student conductor, and was quickly so caught up in the performance, that he didn’t notice Kyo coming to stand beside him until he actually nudged Die with his elbow.

It made him jump, but he smiled a second later. “Hey!” he whispered. “Everything okay on your end?”

Kyo nodded. “Kind of can’t believe it, but we pulled it off.”

“Sure looks that way,” Die said. “I’ll be more inclined to agree if I see that we broke even cost-wise.”

Kyo arched an eyebrow. “You haven’t talked to Shinya yet?”

Die’s eyes scanned the expanse of the gym in search of his friend. Shinya was supposed to be in charge of working the donations table, but since Die hadn’t had a chance to even greet him, he wasn't totally sure where that had ended up. After a minute of searching, he was able to spot Shinya, but when he finally did, he noticed that a woman he didn’t recognize was standing beside him at his appointed station. Die tried to place her face. Was she another volunteer that Kyo had recruited? The mother of one of the students?

He hadn’t meant to voice his confusion, but as the stranger leaned close to speak in Shinya’s ear, Die found himself wondering aloud, “Who is that woman with him?”

Surprisingly, Kyo flinched, grimaced, and whispered back, “Maybe you ought to wait till the concert is over to talk to him.”

That was probably a good idea; Die didn’t want to cause any disruption to the performance by moving through the audience and trying to discuss their financial success or failure.

He was happy watching the kids onstage anyway. They’d worked hard, made such great strides, and he was terribly proud of them as he saw them smile through their holiday tunes with their impressive grade-school-child energy. Freddy seemed to be having the time of his life.

Kyo stayed at Die’s side throughout the performance, only occasionally making some quiet comment or another. He seemed very impressed with the solos from Die’s private students, and wasn’t shy about voicing his praise. But even when he was just standing there silently, Die took comfort in his simple presence. The whole event had been their team effort after all.

The students’ artwork was displayed all the way around the gym, the seats were filled, and Die knew neither of them could have made it all happen on their own. Perhaps they really worked well together.

Appropriately, at this point in his thoughts, a pair of sixth-graders took center stage so they could make some announcements.

“Thank you all for coming tonight. We worked hard putting everything together, and your support means everything to us.”

The audience applauded obediently, and the mic was passed to the second student.

“Everything you’re enjoying tonight could never have been possible without the tireless efforts of our teachers, Andou-sensei and Kyo-sensei.” She gestured to where they were standing, and all eyes turned in their direction.

They bowed and waved awkwardly as everyone applauded again.

The student went on. “Despite hardships and difficulties, these two teachers stopped at nothing to make sure this event would happen, to give us the opportunity to share our creativity, and everything we’ve been learning this year, with all of you. We cannot properly express our gratitude.”

Taking their cue from their student leaders, all of the kids onstage, and those standing to the side, bowed, except for two who came out of nowhere with bouquets of flowers for Die and Kyo. The audience was on their feet, clapping, and there were a few scattered cheers—some of which Die was fairly sure came from Toshiya.

Die and Kyo merely bowed again, flowers held tight to their chests, and although Die felt immeasurable pride in his students, their accomplishments, and their thoughtfulness, he hoped the attention would be gone from him soon.

Luckily it didn’t last long. The sixth-graders onstage went on to introduce the last segment of the concert, and reminded everyone to take some time to admire all the artwork on display, and the evening continued with all eyes turned away from Die once again.

All eyes except Kyo’s. He was still looking at Die as if waiting to follow his lead, still standing close enough that Die could pick up the subtle scent he wore, and—well, Die didn’t mind. Of all the people whose attention he might hold, Kyo was the most acceptable.

"Guess we'd better find somewhere to stash these flowers, huh?" he said quietly, and Kyo half-smiled, nodding.

"Toshiya could probably hide them under the bake sale and concessions table.”

They were able to sneak their way along the wall to where Toshiya was set up, and he was only too happy to keep their flowers safe for them.

“Those kids are so sweet,” he said. “And they’re so right! You both really stuck your necks out to make this happen, it’s so unfair that—and just look at this amazing turnout! I’ve sold out of just about everything,” he added, gesturing to the mostly-empty table. “The dorayaki Kaoru brought were a huge hit.”

Die’s gaze snapped up from the table back to Toshiya’s face. “Did you say that _Kaoru_ brought dorayaki?”

“He didn’t tell you? He had this whole pyrex container he brought in this morning, I had to hide them under my desk all day, keep anyone from eating them. I’m pretty sure he made them himself.”

Die was stunned, and from a glance at Kyo, he felt much the same way.

“I should have saved some for you guys,” Toshiya said, frowning. “I didn’t even think of it. I bought a couple myself, the man’s got skills.”

Looking back down at the table, empty trays and containers covering most of the space, Die wondered who else had offered up donations without telling him. He supposed that was what he got for delegating the responsibility to Toshiya.

“We appreciate the thought anyway,” Kyo said. “And now we know to just approach him directly next time we have a need for dorayaki. Although, personally I’d rather find out how he does with chocolate chip cookies…”

Die reached across the table to grasp Toshiya’s shoulder. “Thanks again for helping us out tonight.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. You should both be very proud of what you’ve accomplished here.”

“I’m just proud of the kids,” Kyo said with his crooked smile.

“Does that mean you haven’t talked to Shinya yet about the donations?” Toshiya said.

Kyo's eyes darted to Die and back to Toshiya. “No, I have, I just still think—”

“You guys brought in so much beyond what I think anyone was expecting,” Toshiya went on excitedly. “I doubt there will be more budget problems this year, no matter what—and his girlfriend seems really nice, too!”

“Girlfriend?” Die felt he’d suddenly lost track of the conversation. He dropped his hand back to his side. “Wait, whose girlfriend?”

Kyo shifted uncomfortably next to him, and Toshiya just seemed dimly confused. “Shinya’s?” he said with a discreet gesture towards where Shinya was set up. “She came to help him sell tickets and to show support, I thought that was super sweet since she doesn’t even work here.”

Die looked in the direction of the donations table, saw that unfamiliar woman standing there with Shinya, and felt incredibly foolish for not having put it all together sooner.

It would have been less awkward probably, if he’d said something, if he’d been able to think of _anything_ to say. But he turned back to Kyo and Toshiya feeling disoriented and strange, and judging by the looks on their faces, he was fooling _no one_ into thinking he was fine with this new information.

By some stroke of good luck, neither of them tried to continue their conversation about Shinya, or even to press Die to talk about something else, and he was so busy wading through a depressed haze of Shinya-thoughts that his attention was only recalled when the audience started getting up and moving around, the recital finished at last.

Toshiya’s hand was firm but gentle on his shoulder. “It’s just about time to start packing up. You okay there?”

“Of course, yeah,” Die said. There was no reason for him not to be, after all. He did need to go talk to Shinya though. About the donations.

Shinya didn’t appear guilty in the slightest as Die crossed to his table. The woman—Shinya’s _girlfriend_ —was there, helping to get everything put away; obviously neither of them were making any move to avoid or hide from Die.

“I heard it was a successful night over here,” Die said, glancing down at the table where ticket prices were still posted.

“You heard right,” Shinya said. “It went much better than I expected.”

“Then we’ll actually be able to pay for all this?”

“We surpassed our goal,” Shinya said. “Not only that, we had a number of people pledge recurring donations, to keep the programs running throughout the year.”

That was great news, and not something Die had anticipated. He looked up at Shinya. “People were that supportive?”

“I think they understand how important the arts are to the community, and to children’s development, more than we gave them credit for.”

Die turned excitedly, expecting to find Kyo beside him to share in his joy, but there was no one there. A quick look around found him back near Toshiya’s table, carrying folding chairs over to lean against the wall.

“I didn’t see Hayashi-sensei,” Shinya said then, in a lowered voice. “Though it’s possible that he slipped in without my noticing. Did you expect him to make an appearance?”

“Not really,” Die said. “I was impressed enough that Kaoru showed.”

Shinya smiled just slightly. “He cares more than he lets on. Makes decent dorayaki, too.”

“Well, it means a lot to me,” Die said. He caught Shinya’s girlfriend hovering in his peripheral vision. It seemed she had finished her own task, but didn’t want to interrupt their conversation, so Die invited her to join, saying, “As does your support. This isn’t even your school, and yet you came to help us out. I can’t thank you enough.” He bowed politely, and she came a little closer, looking pleased.

“I’m sorry we weren’t introduced beforehand,” she said, with a rather pointed look at Shinya.

Shinya cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed. “Mm, yes, Die, this is Namiko, I’ve… wanted you to meet her for a while now.”

Long-past conversations came to mind—Shinya asking Die in an oddly serious tone whether there was anything new in his life, Die overhearing that Shinya might want to bring someone as a guest to a drinking party—and Die realized this relationship was not an entirely new development, he just wasn’t privy to many details of Shinya’s personal life these days. Maybe that was for the best.

Fixing a smile neatly on his face, Die nodded. “I’m glad we’ve finally gotten the chance to cross paths.”

He didn’t linger long to chat. He entrusted Shinya with the cash box to be properly organized and budgeted Monday morning, thanked them both again for their work, and went off to help break everything down.

He had hoped to run into Kaoru before he took off, just to thank him for coming and for donating his hidden talents, but he supposed that, having come with his kids, Kaoru had needed to get them home without hanging around.

The volunteers Kyo had recruited were efficient in their takedown duties. It actually saddened Die somewhat to see all their efforts so ruthlessly torn down and packed away. The students’ art gallery had only gotten to stand for a few hours before being dismantled, and it felt so unfair that it was hard to cling to that sense of triumph and accomplishment that he’d had during the concert.

But Kyo was still there, and they’d made their own solution to the school’s budget crisis. Die looked forward to collaborating with him again on future projects and events, on sharing their fund for the arts, so that Kyo would never have to experience that anger and frustration he’d first overheard from the principal’s office.

Die worked on taking down risers, opting to wait to speak to Kyo about any future endeavors until they weren’t so busy, and gradually, the gym returned to normal, and the other volunteers took their leave.

Kyo was left, teetering once more on the step-ladder, trying to yank down the decorations still left streaming across the high gymnasium walls.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson about trying to do these things yourself when this stuff was going _up_?” Die teased as he came to help.

“It shouldn’t be as hard to tear them _down_ ,” Kyo argued, tugging uselessly at the bottom corner of a large banner reading “ _A Night of Art and Music, Winter 2020,”_ which some of the other volunteers had hung, even higher than the garland.

“You’re just gonna end up tearing it,” Die said, and waved for Kyo to come down and clear out of the way. “You have a staple remover?”

Kyo shrugged. “Why do you think I was trying to just rip them down?”

“That just leaves staples in the walls,” Die said. He looked around to find where the staple remover had been left, with some other tools on the edge of the stage, and jogged over to pick it up.

“My way’s faster,” Kyo said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Not if we have to go back and find all those forgotten staples later,” Die said as he came back towards him, brandishing the staple remover. “These things are a life saver, and can be really quick if you use them right.”

Kyo snorted, but whatever retort he was going to make was lost as the banner above him suddenly came crashing down, and Die only caught it by acting on instinct and slamming his hand down on it, mere centimeters from Kyo’s head, his arm effectively boxing Kyo in against the wall.

“Well, would you look at that,” Kyo said, after a few seconds of intense silence, his voice barely more than a whisper, “looks like my method brought it down after all.”

Die didn’t know how to move from their current position without letting the banner fall again, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. As they were, he was so close to Kyo he could feel his body heat in the chilly gym, count his (surprisingly pretty) eyelashes, and if he leaned in just a few centimeters closer…

Time seemed, as before with the ladder incident, to stretch past its worldly limits, but then much too soon, Kyo was sniffing and ducking out from under Die’s arm, allowing him to pull the banner down the rest of the way.

“Thanks,” Kyo said abruptly. “For, uh, catching that. Though I doubt it would have killed me, if I had been hit.”

Die let out a forced chuckle. “Might’ve gotten a pretty nasty paper cut.”

“Good point,” Kyo said. “There are some fates worse than death.”

Die helped to pull down the rest of the decorations, meticulously removing staples as he went, and Kyo followed him around this time, keeping the step-ladder steady, letting Die drop staples into his cupped hand, and coiling up lengths of garland as they came down.

Working together, they had everything back to shipshape before it was outrageously late, and Die was struck with some frozen sort of fear as he realized they were finished.

There was no real excuse to linger. With the event itself over, closing the doors to the gym had an odd finality to it. They would both return to their separate homes, continue teaching their separate subjects, and have no need to work so closely now that the recital had been a success.

Kyo reinforced the feeling, saying, “It’s been a pleasure working with you. I’m glad we managed to pull it off.”

“Of course, me too,” Die said, holding his ukulele and flowers in one hand so he could pull his coat more tightly around himself. “It’s been…” He didn’t even know what words to use to express how working with Kyo had made him feel, how much he’d enjoyed getting to know him.

He didn’t want to say goodbye, to pat each other on the back and part ways. He’d come to think of Kyo as a friend, if not perhaps something even more than that, and he wasn’t ready to let go. He opened his mouth, not to confess anything quite so dramatic as all he was feeling, but to at least invite Kyo back to his place, to celebrate all that they’d accomplished together.

But once again, he took too long to act. The moment passed, and Kyo, with his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets, his own bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm, took a step back from him. “I’ll see you around school.”

“I… Yeah,” Die said, nodding. “You have a ride home?”

Kyo smiled. “I can manage. Goodnight.”

Die worried about him going off in the cold on his own, but he could tell he didn’t want to be pushed. “Goodnight, Kyo. Stay safe.”

He drove himself home, feeling strange and regretful, when he should have been a picture of triumph and high holiday spirits. He just couldn’t help but feel like he’d lost something.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy, and we're back! I hope y'all didn't miss me too much, heh.  
> This weekend is Halloween! And this is not a very Halloweenish chapter at all, I feel like I should have planned that better, hmm. Oh well. I still hope everyone enjoys it, and that if you celebrate Halloween, you have a great and safe holiday! <3

The feeling of regret didn’t really pass in the way Die expected.

Life returned to normal. New Years came and went, school started up again, and Die taught his lessons and classes, but he didn’t shake the feeling that he’d had an important chance, and had let it slip through his fingers.

He saw a lot less of Kyo, now that their collaboration was completed. Sure, they still crossed paths in the halls here and there, but Die had really kind of thought after everything they’d been through together, that they’d grown closer, and that they’d stay close even in the aftermath. He didn’t fully understand why that wasn’t how it had gone down.

It seemed strange to _miss_ him. What did he really know about Kyo anyway? And it wasn’t like they’d ever just hung out socially. There had been a few comments made, suggesting that they might get dinner together sometime, but it had all just been a joke, right? It had never gone anywhere.

There was plenty to keep Die busy without worrying about Kyo anyway. He had to start his students on new, non-seasonal pieces, create a proper budget based on the donations from the recital, and parent-teacher conferences were coming up. Kyo was the last thing on his mind.

Or, he should have been.

Die couldn’t stop thinking about how close he’d been to kissing him. That moment, with Kyo backed up against the wall, could have been some huge _defining_ moment, and instead Die had just let it pass. What if he had just gone for it? What would Kyo have said? Would he have kissed him back?

Even worse was the knowledge that that hadn’t been Die’s _only_ missed opportunity, even on that particular day. Maybe it would haven too forward to try to kiss Kyo in that moment, without warning, when there was nowhere for Kyo to go if he wasn’t interested. But Die could have made an offer. He could have invited him to celebrate with him afterwards, and he’d just stood there and said nothing.

Kyo might have said no. Die tried to use that to justify his own inaction, but he knew well that it was a pretty pathetic excuse. And he didn’t know anyway whether he was more afraid of Kyo saying no or saying yes.

What would he have done, if he had brought Kyo back to his place? Tried to sleep with him? Asked him for a relationship? Based on what?

Maybe it was better that they weren’t seeing each other so much now, so the possibility didn’t continue to haunt him.

It wasn’t easy, though. Die would have liked to say that he was sufficiently distracted by his many other obligations, but Kyo’s absence in his life was more difficult to ignore when it became so… literal.

Two weeks in a row now, Kyo had canceled his private guitar lessons with Die, and it was more troubling than it should have been. Once, Die could have written off easily; maybe Kyo had something else important to do that afternoon, no problem. Twice in a row started to look like a pattern, and whether he liked it or not, Die was forced to wonder why.

Was there something wrong, something going on in Kyo’s life that would prevent him from making time for his music study? Or was it that he was trying to avoid _Die_ specifically? Was he planning on dropping out of his lessons altogether?

Die hoped that if that were the case, Kyo would at least say something to him about it. It seemed like they weren’t even able to have a conversation these days; even their discussions about how to budget the donations between their two programs were conducted via brief, business-like emails. What happened to how they’d been able to just _talk_?

The door to the art room was closed, Die noticed, when he went to pick up Freddy from class for his tutoring session. It could have meant nothing at all, but somehow it still felt like it was closed specifically to keep Die out.

He couldn’t dwell on it. Freddy required his undivided attention, especially since today they were planning to use the defunct language lab so that Freddy could practice his listening skills in a test-like environment.

“When are we going to play ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ again?” Freddy asked as they made their way downstairs to the lab. “I don’t like new songs as much.”

“We’re finished with that one,” Die said. “Remember how we played it at the recital? Your mom loved it, right?”

“Yeah, but I liked that better what we do now.” It was almost reasonable how he said it, and Die wanted to appease him.

“Maybe we can play it again next year.”

“Next _year_ is not happen,” Freddy complained. “Will you be alive still?”

“Geez, kid,” Die muttered. More audibly he said, “There are a lot of other fun songs we can learn to play in the meantime. You never know, you might even like one of them better than ‘Jingle Bell Rock.’”

Freddy looked extremely skeptical, but as they finally reached the language lab, he didn’t argue any further.

Die slid the door open with some effort; no one had used the lab much in the last few years, and it definitely showed. Everything was dusty and outdated, and the door screeched when he tried to slide it closed behind them.

“Is there some creepy things in here?” Freddy asked, seeming both wary and hopeful.

"There shouldn't be anything in here at all,” Die answered, though he couldn't deny that the dark mustiness of the room had even him a bit uneasy.

This was exacerbated by the ominous rustling sounds, which became more apparent as they came more fully into the room.

“It’s ghosts!” Freddy said, grabbing hold of Die’s sleeve, and looking up at him with huge round eyes.

“No,” Die said, “it… probably isn’t.”

Perhaps less than reassured, Freddy stayed a ways back, tiptoeing around on his own, while Die went about opening windows to let some light and fresh air into the lab. He then tried to get them back on track with practicing for the listening portion of Freddy’s upcoming Japanese test, but it was tricky to keep focused on that when mysterious noises from some undetermined source kept distracting them both.

Freddy was turned around in his chair, peering towards the back of the room and fully ignoring Die, when it became clear that something needed to be done.

“All right,” Die said briskly, finally getting Freddy’s attention back. “Let’s go find out what’s in here. Do you want to stay over here, in case it’s some dangerous animal?”

Freddy shook his head frantically and crept along behind Die to the part of the room from which most of the noises had been emanating.

There really didn’t seem to be anything there, just a few stacks of outdated textbooks and dictionaries, but just as Die was about to turn and continue his search in another direction, Freddy gasped dramatically.

“LIZARD!” he screamed in English, pointing down near Die’s feet.

Die stumbled backwards. “Shhh-oot! Okay! Wow.” There was indeed a fairly small and rather cute lizard there on the floor, and the last thing Die wanted to do was step on it.

“What should we do?” Freddy asked, still sounding panicked. He had jumped up onto a chair and showed no signs of coming down.

“You’re not scared, are you?” Die said, trying to keep his tone light and comforting. “This little guy won’t hurt us. We just needed to figure out how to get him outside.”

“I know!” Freddy said suddenly, and before Die could question it, he was scrambling over desks and running across the lab to an adjoining room at the front that Die had hardly noticed when they came in.

After watching him run off, Die returned his attention to the lizard, unwilling to look away from it for too long. He felt for the creature; it had to be seriously confused getting in there. Surely it would have preferred to be outside. Or did lizards get cold in the winter?

When Freddy came scampering back out he was carrying a plastic tupperware container, holding it over his head triumphantly.

“Where did you get that?”

“In there, next to the sink,” Freddy said, nodding back towards the adjoining room. “We can catch lizard in this! Then we rescue him!”

Die was struck by Freddy’s levelheadedness. Despite his characteristic failure to maintain focus and his defensive tendencies, he was perfectly capable of being responsible and resourceful, as well as compassionate towards a small and helpless animal. If only he could show this side of himself more in class, instead of always getting in trouble.

“Careful!” Freddy said as he somewhat reluctantly let Die take the tupperware from him. “Don’t cut his tail! Yeah, sometimes lizards with no tail are okay, but maybe not, we don’t know!”

“Besides, it’d probably hurt,” Die agreed. He took a deep breath, and, sneaking up on it slowly, he managed to get the plastic container over the lizard on the first try. “Got him!”

“And his tail??”

“Fine, still attached.” Die let his breath out again, relieved. “Okay, so. What do we do now?”

“Outside!” Freddy said, already bounding back towards the door.

“I need something else to pick him up,” Die said.

Freddy crossed to him again, frowning thoughtfully.

In some bizarre way, for a split-second, he reminded Die of Kyo. He had the feeling that Kyo would know exactly what to do in this situation, how to remain calm and turn it into a teaching moment. He was almost tempted to ask Freddy how he thought Kyo might handle the lizard, but putting a first-grader in the middle of whatever wasn’t going on between him and Kyo didn’t seem right.

Before Die could even finish re-centering his thoughts, Freddy had solved the problem himself, and with a loud exclamation of, “Clearfile!” he ran to fetch the necessary item.

He returned in such haste that he nearly went crashing right into both Die and the captive lizard, and Die had to throw out one arm to catch him like he was an endangered bag of groceries.

Yes, this was the issue with Freddy. It wasn’t a matter of his _character_ that was in question, never that he was a “ _bad kid_ ,” but man oh man did he need to work on his impulse control.

“Why don’t you let me do the next part?” Die said gently.

Freddy held the clearfile away from him. “I wanna do!”

“But you were so helpful getting what we needed, now how about picking the lizard up can be _my_ job, okay?” Die gingerly reached to take the folder from Freddy’s small, stubborn hands, and after a brief tug-of-war, he got it from him. “Thank you.”

It was easy enough from there to slide the file under the container, and then Freddy was half-leading/half-chasing him out of the lab so the animal could be released outside.

They stood on the steps of the building, not wanting to walk all the way out and dirty their indoor shoes, and watched the lizard disappear into some nearby bushes.

“Do you think he come back?” Freddy asked.

“Um, well, I guess we can’t know for sure,” Die said. “But hopefully once he gets home, he’ll realize he’s safe there, and he’ll want to stay.”

“Maybe we can make his house!” Freddy said. “Like I made the birdhouse, we can make a lizard house!”

Die laughed. It made a kind of sense. “Not so sure lizards want to live in houses.”

“But he wanted to be in here,” Freddy pointed out.

“I don’t think he really did,” Die said. “Maybe some lizards are meant to be pets, but this one—”

“Lizards can be _pets_?”

“You’ve never seen a pet lizard? People have them all the time.”

Freddy made a face, not at all shy about showing what he thought of that.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Die said. “They may not be cuddly like a dog or a cat—”

“Or a hamster!”

“—Sure, or a hamster, but lizards are perfectly nice in their own way. I’ve thought about having a lizard as a pet before myself.”

Freddy stared at him. “ _You_? Really!?”

Die nodded. “Sure, I think they’re cute.”

“You should have kept that one!” Freddy cried, gesturing wildly. “We caught him, he likes to come inside, you could take him home!”

“Oh, um,” Die said, frowning, “Well, I don’t know about that, like I said—”

“I can find!”

And before Die could stop him, Freddy was off like a shot, racing in his indoor shoes towards the bushes where the lizard had disappeared.

Die sighed as he watched him. _Impulse control_.

That ended up being one of the main topics of the conference Die and Shinya had with Freddy’s parents.

“He’s very sweet,” Shinya said, “and he's extremely bright. With Andou-sensei's help, he's come a long way with his Japanese study, and his scores on his most recent listening test show that. But he really needs to work on thinking before he acts, or he’ll continue to get into trouble.”

Freddy’s mother looked seriously embarrassed, but his father just chuckled. “You know, that’s just how kids are!”

Die had to work not to roll his eyes at this guy. Didn’t he get that he and Shinya worked with kids every day? They had a pretty solid grasp on their typical behavior.

"Of course we understand that," Shinya said calmly. "And I don't think that our expectations for him are unrealistic for his age group."

“He just has a big heart,” the father insisted. “He loves to help people. You want me to tell my kid he shouldn’t help people?”

“That’s not what we’re saying at all.”

Die couldn’t help but frown. There was some truth to the claim that Freddy wanted to help people, sure. Nine times out of ten when he’d get in trouble, it was because he’d impulsively charged into a situation, _meaning_ to help, when he shouldn’t have actually gotten involved in the first place.

“No one doubts his intentions,” Die said, “but the fact remains that it would be good for him to stop and think before he acts, instead of just _reacting_.”

“Especially in anger," Shinya added.

Freddy’s father pursed his lips. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for him? He’s a smart kid, speaks three languages—but he’s only six years old! It’s tough to come to a new school and not fit in.”

“We understand that,” Shinya said again. “In fact, that’s why Andou-sensei here has been working specially with Freddy, to help him get more comfortable with the school, and with expressing himself in Japanese.”

The father eyed Die skeptically. “Aren’t you the music teacher?”

“I am,” Die said, “but I also speak some English, and I think Freddy’s enjoyed working with me.”

With a snort, Freddy’s father shifted in his chair, turning back to Shinya. “Does this school have some shortage of _real_ teachers? First my son comes home talking about how some art teacher is trying to help him manage his anger, brings all these drawings week after week, now he’s getting tutoring in social skills from the guy who teaches him the recorder? I mean, I don’t know if he can _actually_ speak English, but how can you sit here and talk to me about the wellbeing of my _child_ when this is the only support you can offer?”

Die bristled, especially at the dismissive mention of Kyo, who, as far as Die was aware, wasn’t even acting in any kind of official capacity with the special assistance he was providing Freddy, but it wasn’t the time to get into that. “Look,” he said. “We all know that Freddy is an intelligent child, and very kind and compassionate. But he’s also stubborn and defensive, and needs to work on his patience.”

The mother spoke then, completely shocking Die with her Japanese, “You’re absolutely right. Sometimes he is very angry with me, if I have to come home late, or I can’t spend enough time with him before work in the morning. You would never believe how angry and mean a six-year-old can be.”

Die looked at her sympathetically, but before he could open his mouth, Freddy’s father was laughing disdainfully again.

“I was the same way when I was a kid,” he said. “People didn’t give me the respect I deserved, always judged me because I was small, and I got into so many fights the school didn’t know what to do with me. Guess that’s what happens with boys, isn’t it?” He smiled at Die and Shinya, clearly expecting them to laugh and agree with him.

“I’m afraid I never got into a fight growing up,” Shinya said drily. “And with the strikes Freddy has against him, if he ends up in that kind of trouble, he will be suspended from school. He will not be permitted to put his hands on anyone."

Freddy’s father looked a bit stunned by that, and his wife quietly shook her head. “No, of course not, we understand.”

The meeting didn’t last much longer.

“Don’t let them get to you,” Shinya said as they were left alone in his classroom. “It’s hard for parents to hear that their baby is struggling at school.”

“I know,” Die said. “But it’s not hard to see why Freddy is having some social issues if that’s how his dad acts all the time.”

“I get the impression that Mom and Dad don’t always communicate,” Shinya agreed. “None of what we discussed today was new information, and yet he acted like it was his first time hearing it.”

“Not sure I’d be real communicative either if that’s the man I had to talk to,” Die muttered, as he headed for the door. “I just feel bad. Freddy _is_ such a sweet kid.”

“So, let’s keep doing what we can to encourage that,” Shinya said. He stayed at his desk. “Listen, I have a few more things to take care of here, but I want to thank you again for sitting in on our conference like that. Even if it didn’t seem like it did much good, I was glad you were there to weigh in.”

“Sure, I’m happy to do whatever I can.”

“I’ll see you around then,” Shinya said, and just as Die was turning to leave, he added, “We should get dinner soon.”

Die was surprised by the suggestion and floundered for a few awkward seconds before saying, “Yeah! We should, definitely.”

Either Shinya was used to Die’s awkwardness or he just felt like ignoring it, because he waved and let Die go on his way without further delay.

Ever since meeting Shinya’s new significant other, Die hadn’t been sure exactly how to act. He knew they’d been nothing more than friends for a while now, and he was seriously fine with that. But maybe some small, hidden part of him had always wondered whether somewhere down the line they’d find themselves together again, and it was sort of strange to have it so plainly confirmed that Shinya had moved on.

Or maybe what was stranger was how Die really _wasn’t_ upset by it. He’d have thought he’d be more hurt to know Shinya was involved with someone else, but, much as he searched his feelings, Die was… fine.

He wasn’t completely ready to delve too deeply into the reasons behind that.

His name was called politely just before he reached the staff room, and Die turned to find Maiko there, looking chipper as ever.

“What can I do for you?” he asked her, never too busy for a minute with one of his nicest students. “How’s ballet treating you?”

“It’s good!” she said brightly. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about! Our recital is coming up in just a couple weeks, and—I don’t have a really big role or anything, I’m only in the junior company, but—I wondered if you might want to come see it! If you’re not busy.”

“Absolutely!” Die said earnestly. “I would love to come see it.” He’d been to her last three dance recitals, and had no regrets about attending. He didn’t know of any other teachers who went, but as far as he was concerned, they were all seriously missing out.

“Great!” Maiko said, bouncing slightly. “So, we’ll have two performances. Which is better for you, Saturday night or Sunday afternoon?”

“Saturday sounds good,” Die said. “Can I buy a ticket from you directly, or…?”

“Um, I don’t have any tickets yet, you might have to get them at the door… I’ll ask my mom, though!”

“Okay,” Die said, nodding. “I’ll wait for more details from you then. Is there a theme to this one?”

“It’s fairytales. But not the same as last time. Some of them are so cool!” She seemed so genuinely excited that Die found himself really looking forward to it, too.

“I can’t wait to see it,” he said with a grin. “Weekend after next? I’ll put it on my calendar.”

Maiko went skipping off, and Die went into the staff room. He wished he could keep her contagious good mood, but as he got to his desk, his mind went back to the meeting with Freddy’s parents, and he sat down feeling dejected and helpless.

Freddy’s father had just brought up Die’s same old insecurities. He was just the music teacher; his input on a child’s education and wellbeing couldn’t be taken seriously. Obviously Freddy’s dad didn’t think Die was worth listening to, even after all the time he’d put in getting to know the kid.

He knew Shinya was right, that parents just had difficulty accepting that their little angels were having a hard time, but what was it going to take for them to hear what Die and Shinya were saying? There had been so many calls, emails, and written behavior reports sent out already.

“Parent conferences?”

Die looked up in surprise to find that Kaoru was addressing him, his expression sort of uncharacteristically sympathetic.

He had to wonder how bad he looked that Kaoru would willingly strike up a conversation with him about his troubles.

“Just a frustrating father,” Die said.

Kaoru nodded. “I’ve known my fair share of those. Maybe I even am one.”

“No, I’m sure you’re not,” Die said automatically, though the truth was he hadn’t had much experience with Kaoru in that context.

“Parents want to believe they know their children,” Kaoru said. “And that no one else could know their child as well, even when their kids are spending eight hours a day here with us, so there’s a _pretty_ good chance we’ve gotten to know a thing or two about them.”

“Conferences feel pretty pointless when the parents won’t listen to what I’m saying,” Die said.

“It’s not your fault,” Kaoru said. “If they won’t listen when _you’re_ trying to help, they probably wouldn’t listen to anyone.”

Die had a hard time believing that, or even believing that Kaoru believed it. “You don’t think it’s my fault, for agreeing to work with a difficult child, letting myself be taken advantage of?”

Kaoru paused, frowning. In time, he said, “I haven’t been as supportive of you as I should have been. As I should be. I consider you a friend, and I’m not even sure you know that.”

Yet again, Die was taken aback. He liked to consider Kaoru a friend too, but it was admittedly hard to tell sometimes if that feeling was mutual. “I’m glad you think of me that way,” he said, “but I’m not sure where this is coming from.”

“I wish I’d done more to help with the recital,” Kaoru said with a sigh. “It’s easy for me to say that now that it’s over, I know.”

“Don’t even say that,” Die said. “It meant the world to me that you were there, you left before I could tell you. Not to mention what you contributed for the bake sale.”

“I was impressed," Kaoru said. “It was clear how much work you put into it, just because you wanted the kids to have it, and you pulled it off. I should have backed you up from the beginning, instead of giving you shit about taking on too much."

“Well, thank you,” Die said, moved by the rare outpouring of emotional honesty from his colleague. “But it worked out. I had other help.”

He willed himself not to look towards the empty desk that he knew belonged officially to Kyo, despite how he never used it.

But it didn’t matter, because Kaoru looked over there on his own. “Yes, I know, you weren’t working alone.”

“No,” Die said. “Kyo and I were pretty much equal partners.”

Kaoru nodded. “I’m glad you could support each other. I was so pissed when his gallery was canceled in the first place.”

Die blinked at him, surprised. “You were?”

“Of course,” Kaoru said, like it was obvious. “Fuckin’ Hayashi… I guess there just weren’t enough of us fighting for it to overrule him. But when it was your recital, too?” He made a low sinister noise. “None of us even saw it coming. I really do think he has it out for the arts programs.”

“I didn’t realize you cared about that kind of thing.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Kaoru said. “I know how valuable these programs are for our children’s health and development. If anything, we should be dedicating _more_ resources to them, not cutting back.”

“Obviously I agree.”

“Anyway,” Kaoru said. “I just meant—I should have done more. So, next time. Or if there’s anything I can do to help with your current frustrations, I’m here for you.”

Die wasn’t about to turn down such a rare direct offer of Kaoru’s help, so he told him all about Freddy, how he’d made so much progress, but he still struggled, how his parents didn’t seem to be doing him any favors with their attitudes and their failure to work together. Kaoru really listened the whole time, too, rather than grumbling impatiently or cutting Die off.

Even when he’d finished talking, Kaoru didn’t say anything until Die prompted him, asking, “What do you think I should do?”

“I think you should do what you always do,” Kaoru said. “What you do best: put the kids first.”

“I don’t know how much that’s going to help if his parents won’t listen to reason.”

“You’re right,” Kaoru said, nodding. “It sucks. It’s gotta be very confusing for this child to have the adults that care about him all on different pages. But.” He looked at Die with raised eyebrows. “Isn’t it better for him to still be getting the support and encouragement he needs from at least _one_ of those adults?”

“But his dad…”

“Maybe he’ll come around later,” Kaoru said. “Maybe he won’t. Maybe the mom will. But if you let yourself get distracted worrying about what his parents are or aren’t doing, more than you’re thinking about the best way to help your _student_ , you’re not doing as much for him as I know you _could_ be doing.”

It wasn’t the advice Die would have expected from Kaoru, who usually seemed to enjoy telling him how his dedication to the students would only end up hurting him in the long run, but it was nice to hear.

“That kid is lucky to have you in his corner,” Kaoru said, and looked back down at his work on his desk.

He waved it off when Die awkwardly mumbled his thanks, but that did nothing to diminish the comfort Die still felt knowing he had Kaoru’s support.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late, sorry! With Halloween and then starting work on my NaNo, the weekend got away from me!  
> It's election day here in the US and it's... Yeah, you all know. Stressful, terrifying, etc. Just hoping we all make it through, especially when covid cases have been on the rise all over the country (and the world). Stay safe, everyone.  
> On a brighter note, with this chapter, I've officially posted over one *million* words on AO3. Wow. Maybe it seems like a strange milestone to celebrate (I know some people post a lot more than I do), but when I posted my first fics here back in 2016 I never would have guessed just how much I would end up writing. Thank you, especially to those of you who have read many of my stories and been so supportive throughout. I am happy to write, but it means a lot more being able to share it with everyone here. And I'm not throwin' in the towel yet! Love to you all, take care xoxo

It still might have been more helpful to Freddy if he could be tested for some type of learning disorder, or at least schedule a regular appointment with a counselor, to talk about his issues with anger and frustration, but Die did what he could to be there for him, if he wanted to talk about anything.

“How is everything going in Terachi-sensei’s class?” he asked at their tutoring session. “Not getting into any fights lately?”

Freddy glared at him. “I’m not fighting. Terachi-sensei said I had—mostly good day.”

Uh-oh. “Only mostly good?”

“It was only a tiny bit bad!” Freddy insisted. “I was cleaning up my puzzle, but I… Sojiro said I not cleaning up, but I _did_. I _did_!”

Die nodded. “Sounds like a misunderstanding.” He’d probably have to get the story from Shinya if he really wanted to know how it went down.

"Then Aoi wasn’t reading when it’s reading time,” Freddy went on. “She was _talking_. I told her no talking at reading time, I can’t read if she talking. But she was talking still!”

“I can see how that would be frustrating,” Die said. “Did you tell Terachi-sensei?”

Freddy scowled, looking off to the side. “I got in trouble. For talking.”

“Did Terachi-sensei know what Aoi-chan was doing?”

“He _knew_!” Freddy said, his agitation growing. “I _told_ him, but he not listen, even if I _told_ him!”

“Is this the voice you used when you told him?” Die asked calmly.

Freddy actually growled.

“So maybe you didn’t get in trouble for _talking_ ,” Die continued. “You got in trouble for _yelling_. At your _teacher_.”

It was sort of hard for Die to imagine any of Shinya’s students yelling at him; he was such a nice person and calming presence that Die would have thought even someone as sensitive as Freddy wouldn’t take out his emotions on him. Still, he could understand how Freddy would have seen the whole situation as unjust, and how, if he felt he couldn’t effectively express himself, he would have lost his temper.

“Does Terachi-sensei yell at you?” Die asked.

Freddy shook his head no.

"Is he mean to you?"

Again, Freddy shook his head.

“Then it’s not very nice of you to yell at him, is it? I don’t think he deserves to be treated that way.”

Freddy sniffled.

“And we were just speaking with your parents last week,” Die said sadly. “I was hoping we’d be able to tell them you were doing better.”

“I _am_ doing better,” Freddy said. “Mostly.”

“Yelling at your teacher who only wants to help you work out a difficult problem with your classmate? That doesn’t sound mostly better to me.” Die sighed, looked at how Freddy was all slumped piteously in his seat. “Did you at least say you were sorry?”

Freddy nodded, but said, “Sorry not good enough.”

“No,” Die agreed. “It’s a start, but the important part is showing that you won’t do it again by changing your behavior.”

“I just wish Terachi-sensei listen to me.”

“I know,” Die said. It wasn’t always easy to see exactly how classroom conflicts had arisen when one was trying to manage twenty or thirty children at once, and Die thought Shinya might have dismissed Freddy’s protests a little too quickly. He’d have to talk to him about the matter later, compare versions of the incident. They’d finally scheduled that dinner Shinya had suggested for this Sunday evening—though this might not have been the topic Shinya had in mind for that.

Freddy was obviously disheartened from the conversation, and while Die did want him to take his behavior seriously, he also didn’t want to totally discount the progress he’d made.

“I am glad to hear that other things have been going well,” he said. “You haven’t had any problems in music class lately.”

“And I got a sticker yesterday,” Freddy said, “on my chart.”

This was the first Die had heard of this particular motivational tool. “Sticker on your chart, eh? Is that at home?”

Freddy shook his head. “In Kyo-sensei’s class.”

Oh, of course. Die shouldn’t have been surprised by that. Despite how they never seemed to take the time to formally include Kyo in Freddy’s education plan, Die was finding out more and more about ways that Kyo had taken it upon himself to help.

He took a second or two too long to respond, and Freddy commented, “He hasn’t come by since lately.”

“No, I guess he hasn’t,” Die said.

“You miss him?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Before, you and Kyo-sensei together a lot,” Freddy said. “Are you sad that he doesn’t come visit us lately?”

“No,” Die said, “I… It’s not a big deal. I mean, we did see each other more, when we were working on—but it’s fine, I’m not sad, it’s just how things go, and hey! How about working on some vocabulary?”

He really hoped he wasn’t blushing because Freddy was sure to notice something like that—damn it, why were kids so observant?—and he managed to occupy him with vocab review, but it didn’t take his mind off what Freddy had said.

It wasn't as simple as that, as being _sad_ that Kyo hadn’t been coming by to say hello, but it was still… difficult, to see him so little after all the time they’d spent working together on the recital, like that whole chapter had ended, and now they were back to being strangers.

On an almost daily basis, he considered going up to Kyo’s classroom, inviting him to go with him to grab lunch at Lawson, or offering to give him a ride home on a cold day, but something always stopped him. Maybe Kyo didn’t want to see him, or to spend time with him. Maybe the fact that he’d seen him so much less was something deliberate on Kyo’s part.

He didn’t have to (or _couldn’t_ ) worry that Kyo just hadn’t been around; obviously he was at the school, teaching his classes, putting stickers on Freddy’s chart, and Die had still seen him around the school a handful of times, too, just always from a distance, never close enough that he could stop him for a chat, even just to ask how he’d been doing.

Though, in truth, Die wanted to talk to him about more than that. He waned to ask Kyo if he had any insight on getting through to Freddy, he wanted to hear about any new art Kyo was working on; he just wanted to get to know him.

It was pretty tough to do that when Kyo canceled yet _another_ of his one-on-one guitar lessons.

Even if Die couldn’t really be _worried_ about Kyo, there was no pretending he wasn’t disappointed at another chance to see him being ripped away. And he could definitely still worry that he’d _done_ something that would cause Kyo to avoid him.

Once again, Die’s mind went back to the night of the recital, how he wished he’d done things differently. Could it be that Kyo had wanted things to go differently as well? Or had even the few awkward moments between them been more than Kyo wanted, made him want to put even more distance between them?

It would have been nice to talk to Kyo about it, just so he could know for sure where they stood.

Die walked into the administrative office to collect any mail from his box, but he forgot to not show his droopy brooding face in front of the office staff, and as he stood there flipping through flyers and memos, he looked up to find Toshiya standing before him looking serious.

“Oh. Toshiya, hey, what’s up?”

“Is something wrong?” Toshiya asked. “You came in without greeting me, I’ve hardly seen you smile all week. If you have something going on, you know you can talk to me.”

Die shook his head and was quick to break eye contact. “It’s nothing. Just tired. And you know, Freddy…”

“Has he not improved at all?” Toshiya said worriedly. “The parents at the after-school case have been giving me mixed reviews.”

“It’s hard to say,” Die said, relaxing into the excuse to not be honest about his real emotional problems. “Some days he’s fine, but I guess even one little thing can really set him off.”

“Do you want me to see about getting Hayashi-sensei involved?”

“No!” Die said at once, his eyes darting to the closed door to the principal’s office. “Absolutely not, that’s the last thing we need.”

“Okay, okay,” Toshiya said. “I just want to know if there’s some way I can help. I guess I’ve been feeling sort of… removed, from the action, here at my desk all the time.”

That made Die smile a little bit to think that Toshiya had gotten used to having a more active role when he was volunteering with the recital, and now he was restless. At least Die wasn’t the only one missing the routine they’d established during all those preparations.

He thought about asking Toshiya about Kyo, whether he knew why he’d been canceling his guitar lessons, or if he’d even talked to him lately, but maybe it was wrong to try to drag Toshiya into business that Kyo might mean to keep private, from Die at least.

Instead, to his own surprise, he asked quietly, “Do you know if Hayashi actually even _went_ to our fundraising event?”

Toshiya definitely hadn’t expected that either, based on how his eyebrows jumped, and he pulled Die by the arm into the privacy of the corridor. “W-what, why do you ask?”

“You didn’t see him there that night, did you? I know I didn’t.”

“Well, no,” Toshiya said slowly, “but I guess I would have been surprised if I _had_ seen him, after…”

“After he assured me he would come if he was free,” Die said. “I was probably supposed to recognize that as him blowing me off, huh?”

“I mean… Did you really _want_ him to attend?”

“No,” Die said. “Or—I don’t know. I wanted him to see it, to see that we could make it happen, and that it was good. I wanted to prove to him that our community could see that our art programs are worth investing in, and that he should, too.”

“But instead, he hasn’t said anything to you since it happened, and you have no idea what state your budget will be in for future performances.”

“We have the money we fundraised, so I’m not feeling completely hopeless,” Die said. “But I’d like to know it won’t always be like this. I don’t want to have to tell Kaoru he’s right, and that I’m being taken advantage of.”

“Taken advantage of in what way?”

“None of the other teachers are forced to come up with everything on their own like this. It’s not just lesson materials and class equipment, I’m expected to plan, organize, and fund events outside of school hours, and it’s not right for me to get zero support.”

“You’re right,” Toshiya said sadly. “Except, I think there is one other teacher who’s left to his own devices as much as you are.”

Die sighed. Of course he was sure that Hayashi-sensei hadn't been in touch with Kyo either. He practically had to fight to get anything done. They were in their miserable sinking little lifeboat together.

Maybe that would be a good excuse to start a conversation with him: to strategize how they could keep the art programs alive without support from the principal.

Die hoped that one day he would have an excuse to talk to Kyo that was less depressing.

The bright point in Die’s day came at the end. Just when he was about to pack up and head out—since Kyo’s guitar lesson was canceled—Maiko showed up, as sunny and energetic as ever, and politely requested to enter the staff room to speak with him.

“Of course, come in,” he said, and observed that today she seemed in even higher spirits than usual. “What can I do for you?”

“You haven’t forgotten about the ballet?”

“No, how could I?” Die said. “It’s tomorrow night, right? How early should I get there to buy tickets?”

“No need!” She held up an envelope and handed it to him.

“Oh, what?” Die peeked in the envelope to find a ticket already purchased for him, assigned seat and everything. “Wait a minute, you didn’t need to do that!”

“It was easier for us to just buy yours, too, since we were buying tickets for my family already,” Maiko explained.

“But, I’m supposed to be going and showing my support for _you_!”

“You are!” she insisted. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you’re going at all. It’s so great to have one of my favorite teachers in the audience.”

“Well, you know I’m always happy and proud to be there,” Die said, feeling quite moved. “Thank you, so much, for getting a ticket for me.”

Maiko just shook her head, beaming. “It was no trouble at all. Plus, as a junior company member, I get a better price on them than you would have been able to get, buying it on your own!”

Die couldn’t help but think what a reasonable child she was, mature far beyond her years, and in such strong contrast to Freddy, about whom he’d spent much of his recent days worrying. Was there any chance that Freddy could grow up to be as well-adjusted as Maiko?

She couldn’t stay and chat since she had to get to dress rehearsal, but she did remind Die once again of the time and the location of the performance center before she went on her way. Actually, Die wished he himself could have his life together as much as Maiko seemed to.

The ticket was tucked safely into Die’s bag and he went home, trying to let thoughts of the ballet keep his spirits up. It was something to look forward to; he always felt inspired, seeing young people demonstrating their chosen art form. The ballet was just what he needed to take his mind off Freddy, and even more, off Kyo.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, thank you all for your patience with this update, and sorry again for any worry that I caused! I'm probably going to switch to one update per week temporarily, since that'll be a little easier to keep up with. Hopefully it will only be for a short time!  
> Anyway, I hope everyone is taking care of themselves. Some things seem to just be getting worse, all we can do is try to be safe and support each other. <3

Saturday was supposed to be Die’s day off. It was a day he treasured, for sleeping in, messing around on his guitar at home, and not bothering to put on pants.

Today wasn’t going to be that kind of Saturday; even if he hadn't had the ballet to go to, he had a meeting.

Really he’d been trying to find a time to go meet with Yamamoto Kaoru from the library ever since he’d received her message back in December, and he was looking forward to finally finding out what kind of program she’d envisioned involving him in, but that didn’t mean it was easy for him to cross out his normally scheduled downtime in favor of dressing up professionally and taking a trip to this small local branch of the public library.

Going to the library wasn’t in and of itself a problem, of course. Libraries are great. It was just that it had been a really long damn time since Die went just to check out a book. Library hours were so limited, and Die was so busy he never had time to even go, much less read books for pleasure and return them by a deadline.

That didn’t mean he felt anything negative walking in, the familiar, comforting smell of old books greeting him without judgment. Except perhaps a little guilty, for not having made more of an effort to visit sooner.

He wasn’t sure where to go for his meeting, but before he could spend much time wondering, a short, bespectacled woman in a turtleneck came bustling over to him, looking too excited for the quiet, reserved atmosphere of the library.

“You must be Andou-san! Of course, you are _exactly_ as your colleague described you—well, and of course, I also looked you up on YouTube, watched several of your videos…”

“Oh,” Die said, trying not to physically cringe. “You did?”

“Yes! Oh, I thought they were so charming and funny!”

Die chuckled nervously. His YouTube channel was by no means a professional account. Most of the things posted there were old, even back to his university days, either of him goofing off with friends or playing guitar in a purely casual capacity. He was fairly sure there was nothing inappropriate or outright offensive, but there was bound to be some shit that was, at the very least, embarrassing as hell.

She clearly picked up on his discomfort, but didn’t seem to totally understand it as she rushed to say, “Your playing was very nice, too! You have a lot of musical talent—and that stage presence! Well—here, come into the office, why are we standing around talking out here!”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and led Die through the library, past the reference desk, the study tables, and the computers, through a door to the office area in the back. There were a number of desks set up in there, but she brought Die to a pair of cozy little couches, with cake and coffee already laid out on the coffee table between them.

“Sit, sit,” the woman instructed, while she took a seat herself on the couch opposite him. “I’m so happy to finally get to talk to you about all the ideas I have!”

“And I’m happy to hear about them,” Die said, because he was certainly curious what she had in mind, even if he was also somewhat apprehensive.

“Well, as I told you in my emails, I’m always looking for new programs, especially ones that can bring the local children in and introduce them to the library—so, music, art, yoga, writing, flower arrangement, I want as wide a variety as possible!”

Die nodded. “Those all sound like wonderful opportunities for kids.”

“And of course when your colleague, Shinya—or I suppose I should call him Terachi-sensei—recommended you, I just couldn’t _wait_ to meet you!” She smiled widely and added sugar to her coffee, though she made no move to actually start drinking it.

“So, you got my name from Shinya.”

“Yes!” she said. “Of course, he absolutely raved about you, said you were the best there is!”

Die supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised—though he couldn’t really picture Shinya “raving” about anything. Still, it felt strange, what with the distance that had grown between them lately, and knowing that Shinya was in a relationship with someone else, and had been for some time. Did Shinya still think Die was _the best_ , or had things changed since his initial recommendation?

Yamamoto-san seemed oblivious to Die’s wandering attention, and began to describe in detail what she was hoping to create for the library with Die’s assistance.

“You would receive a small stipend for what would be a semimonthly live performance—nothing fancy, just you and a guitar would be perfect! You could lead the kids in a couple singalong songs, maybe do English story time, read them a picture book or two from our English section here in the library… Any kind of audience participation would really sell it.”

Die tried to focus on what she was saying, but his mind was elsewhere. He stared past her left shoulder at the desk behind her, the nameplate with _Yamamoto Kaoru_ so nicely engraved on it. How had he gotten here? Doing singalong shows with kids at the local library? What would his own Kaoru say, about his dwindling prospects as a professional musician?

“It would be an all-age show,” she went on. “I think we could expect a fair number of mothers or grandparents with toddlers, so keep that in mind, level-wise, but I’m sure that wouldn’t be any problem for you!”

Die nodded a little belatedly, but then gave voice to his main question. “It seems like you have everything worked out here, and it’s all centered around English. I’m not an expert on the language. Wouldn’t you rather recruit a native English speaker for something like this?”

Yamamoto-san’s smile wavered slightly and she leaned forward, lowering her voice. “The thing is, not everyone is good with _children_. I had reached out initially to a couple Eikawa teachers in the area, but I couldn’t imagine any of them connecting with our all-ages groups.”

That struck Die as a bit funny, that her impression of him, even with his long hair and visible tattoo, was that he was so much easier to picture interacting with kids. It wasn’t quite the response he always got, and it was kind of a nice change. Even if Kaoru would have disapproved of his playing for a casual audience of toddlers and bored retirees, it made Die smile to imagine their enthusiasm, and how he might get to foster a love of learning and music in these kids in some small way.

“Shinya really spoke well of you,” she told him. “He said the students just adore you, and that you’re interested in engaging with the community.”

“I am,” Die said. He picked up his coffee cup. “From what you’ve told me, I would love to be a part of this, as long as you think I’d be a good fit.”

Yamamoto-san looked absolutely delighted. “I can think of no one better!”

They went on talking, planning the calendar for the next couple months, and discussing more of the content she was after, while Die enjoyed the provided refreshments. When his coffee was finished, Yamamoto-san walked him around the library, showing him the (limited) selection of English picture books, and where he would be performing. It all had such a cozy, pleasant feel to it that by the time he was leaving the library, Die was hardly thinking about the Shinya weirdness at all anymore.

Maybe he ought to have just thought it was _nice_ that Shinya went around bringing up his name on so many occasions. There may have been no future for them in any romantic direction, but Shinya still thought highly of Die, and the feeling was both mutual and appreciated.

Then again, Die thought it was a bit odd that this wasn’t even the first time Shinya had recommended him for a, well, _opportunity_ , without even bothering to bring it up to Die himself. Did he think Die would be less likely to get involved with something if he knew upfront that Shinya had brought him into it?

A traffic accident on the way back from the library caused some delays on the road, and Die checked the time anxiously as he made his way home. He wouldn’t be able to do much more than change his clothes and grab his ticket if he didn’t want to be late to the ballet.

He really hadn’t expected the library meeting to take as long as it had, but still, he wasn’t about to let himself be tardy; it may have been just a kids’ recital, but it was still a performance. He wouldn’t be that rude asshole who tried to walk in late.

There wasn’t even time to style his hair, and he was fussing with it restlessly as he drove to the theater. He felt a pang of shame for showing up empty-handed. If he’d planned things better he could have brought some flowers, or another congratulatory gift of some kind. Instead he was just hoping he didn’t look like too much of a mess.

He found parking and half-ran to the building, ticket in hand. The lobby was already empty, and the ushers urged him to find his seat quietly as the performance was about to begin. Die thanked them and hustled into the audience, moving purposefully down the aisle till he found his row, then squeezing past people already seated to the lone empty spot—the one reserved for him.

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered to the people he was disrupting on either side of him. “Excuse me, I’m sorry!”

“You’re fine,” whispered back the person seated to his right. “Glad you made it in time.”

Just as the houselights started to dim, Die turned to say thank you, only to realize all at once that the person sitting beside him was Kyo.

And the curtain rose.

He really didn’t even have a chance to stare, and as everyone applauded and the music began, he certainly couldn’t say anything. He had no choice but to sit there with his heart beating frantically in his chest and his thoughts spinning as he tried to bring the opening of the ballet into focus.

It wasn’t as if he could ignore Kyo completely, though; this was the closest he’d been to him in weeks, and he hadn’t been prepared for it at all. Even in the dark, with everyone’s eyes on the stage, Die couldn’t stop self-consciously adjusting his hair, crossing and uncrossing his legs. Why hadn’t he known Kyo would be there?

The dancing was quite good, and when Maiko finished her first bit, Die made sure to cheer extra loud. So did Kyo. Much as Die might have liked to keep his attention on supporting his student, he was just _so aware_ of Kyo there beside him, how he slouched comfortably in his seat, his legs causally spread so that his knee almost bumped Die’s. It made sense that he was there to see Maiko as well. In fact, she had likely gotten their tickets at the same time, and that’s why they were next to each other. Die still kind of wished he’d had some warning.

Furthermore, it bothered him how much Kyo _didn’t_ seem bothered. It was true that Die didn’t always feel confident in his ability to read Kyo’s body language and expressions, but he certainly _seemed_ at ease.

None of it should have been what Die was concentrating on at the moment. He was there to watch a ballet performance. He just couldn’t help the itching curiosity and betrayal, that _this_ was the most contact he’d had with Kyo since the night of the winter recital. All the answers he’d wanted were right there wrapped up in the tight, compact little package that was Kyo beside him. He couldn’t let him walk away again without knowing what had gone wrong between them.

But there was still no chance to bring it up while the ballet was going on, so Die waited, applauded when he was supposed to, and tried to keep his head.

In time, they reached intermission, and the houselights came up, allowing people to make their way to the lobby for restrooms and refreshments. Die leapt at his chance to speak to Kyo.

“So! Ballet, huh? Not sure why, but I didn’t think this would be your thing.”

“No?” Kyo gave a half-hearted shrug. “I mean, I had to come for Maiko-chan, didn’t I? She’s doing great.”

“She really is.”

“I think she’s the best one up there.”

Die honestly agreed, but he felt sort of like he was being deliberately sidetracked. He shook his head, willed himself to stay on task. “Have you been avoiding me?”

If Kyo was startled by the change of subject, he didn’t let it show. “No.”

Die laughed dubiously. “Just ‘no’? I’ve barely seen you in weeks. You’ve been canceling lessons, you never come by to talk to me—”

“And you never come by to talk to me, either,” Kyo said. “Sounds like things are back to normal.”

Die didn’t want that to be what was normal. He’d liked the way their relationship had changed, _grown_ , and it hurt to think Kyo might have always expected things to return to… this.

He didn’t even know what to say, if that was how Kyo saw things. It seemed like that might really be how Kyo _wanted_ it, in which case, Die could hardly solve it just by trying to talk to him in the middle of an intermission.

“I’ve just been busy,” Kyo said finally. “Sorry about the lessons, I know that’s your income, I’ve just had other things to do.”

Die nodded, because it was weird to take it personally, and he wanted to understand, even if he still didn’t. “Glad you could find the time to come to this, at least.”

“Well, sure,” Kyo said. “I never miss one of Maiko’s recitals.”

That was news to Die. He’d never known that any of the other faculty were regulars at Maiko’s performances, and it brought up a confusing combination of feelings to discover that he wasn’t the only one who attended.

“Usually I go to the Sunday show,” Kyo continued, “but she said tomorrow sold out early or something, so here I am.”

Die paused. Maiko certainly hadn’t said anything to him about one performance or the other being sold out. But then, he’d wanted to come on Saturday anyway, so maybe she would have had no reason to mention it.

Still, for some reason he felt suspicious, with how she’d bought his ticket for him, how he’d been unexpectedly seated next to _Kyo_ of all people, and Die couldn’t help but wonder if she might have planned the whole thing that way.

“I’m guessing she got your ticket for you too,” Die said.

Kyo nodded. “Said she got a better deal if she bought them herself, I felt really bad about it.”

She’d never bought Die’s ticket for him before, but now it seemed like it was all part of some plot to—what? Get him and Kyo sitting together? Why would she care about something like that?

Before he could voice any of these speculations to Kyo, the houselights were blinking in warning for the audience to return to their seats, and the time for chatting had passed.

Die fidgeted with his program until the curtain rose on the second act, and he could give his attention back to the performers.

Maiko shone just as brightly in the second half of the show, and Die only just restrained himself from truly embarrassing her by calling her name loudly as he applauded after her numbers. He wondered whether she knew that he and Kyo were there, if she could see them from the stage, through all the bright lights, if she was feeling smug about seating them together.

He had a mind to confront her about it when the show was over, but was quickly distracted when the time came as Kyo leaned in to murmur, “Guess we'd better go find her in the lobby to congratulate her, hm?”

Obviously that was a lot more important than whatever weird delusional complaint he’d been planning to approach her with, so Die just nodded and went on applauding with the rest of the audience until people started to disperse.

“I’m always so blown away at these things,” Kyo said as they shuffled along with everyone else out to the lobby. “Maiko already seems like some professional ballerina and she’s only ten years old.” He sighed, and added more quietly, “I just hope she’s doing it because she wants to, and not because of pressure from her parents.”

Die looked over at him, surprised. He’d often had the same thought about Maiko, but he hadn’t heard any of the other teachers share his concern about her jam-packed schedule.

“I mean you’ve met her mom, right? She’s pretty intense,” Kyo said.

Kyo calling someone else intense was just surreal enough to make Die stutter out a laugh. “You’re afraid of Mai-chan’s mom?”

“I didn’t say I’m afraid!” Kyo said. “But she’s intimidating.”

Actually, Die couldn’t argue with that, but he did say, “You can tell how happy Maiko is when she’s dancing. I don’t think anyone’s making her do it.”

A soft smile came onto Kyo’s face then. “No, I suppose you’re right. You can tell it’s what she’s meant to do.” They’d finally reached the lobby, but it was so crowded with people—performers and audience members alike—that finding Maiko seemed a bit hopeless. “Man, I should’ve brought flowers or something.”

“I was thinking the same thing earlier,” Die said. “But maybe her intense mother got her some already.”

“Good point,” Kyo said. “And we don’t want to take up too much of her time with all these people here.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re not all here to see Maiko.”

“They should be,” Kyo said simply. “She was the best.”

They spotted her a moment later, still in the costume she’d worn for her Pinocchio segment, a large bunch of flowers cradled in her arms. She was already smiling, but her face lit up even more when she saw them.

“You came! How was it, could you find your seats okay?” She looked between them, and Die could have sworn that her eyebrows waggled, but before he could question her about it, Kyo was jumping in.

“Of course we came, it was fantastic as always. I think better than last year.”

Maiko seemed pleased. “What was your favorite number?”

Kyo gestured to her costume. “Pinocchio, obviously!”

“You were perfect,” Die agreed. “You never told me you were going to have such a big solo!”

She shook her head bashfully. “It was just a small bit, really. And they added it at the last minute. The past week of rehearsals has been so hard!”

“I’d say it paid off,” Kyo said. “I never would have guessed you’d had less time to prepare that number than any others.”

Die watched as they went on talking a while longer, and his heart twisted, to see Kyo looking so _happy_. He found himself wishing he could watch Kyo teach a class, see him completely in his element, and wondered whether he would mind him sitting in sometime. The way Kyo spoke to Maiko was so respectful, honest, not condescending like so many adults were when they spoke to kids, and it wasn’t a surprise, but it brought all these warm feelings that Die wanted to ignore right to the forefront again. He really liked Kyo.

Maiko’s intense mother appeared then and authoritatively insisted on taking some photos of Kyo and Die with her daughter. If she found it strange for Kyo and Die to be there taking pictures together, she didn’t say anything about it; she just assured them both that she would send them a copy of the photos later, and before they could say another word, she led Maiko off to greet some relatives who had come to the show, leaving Die alone with Kyo.

Die was sure to wait until they were out of earshot to mutter, “Yeah, okay, I guess she is pretty intimidating.”

“Right?” Kyo hissed back, clearly trying to contain his giggles.

“You know, now that I think about it, I remember last year, she came to the spring concert we had for the music classes, and she came up to me beforehand to ask about the program—and she paused, looked at me, and made some—well, utterly _benign_ comment about my hair—not a question, not a criticism, just, ‘Hmm, your hair is longer than last time I saw you.’”

“And she was smiling when she said it, wasn’t she?”

“ _Yes_! So, I couldn’t tell at all if that was a good or bad thing!” Die laughed. “Like should I thank her, or get defensive? It really got to me, actually, I couldn’t stop touching my hair through the whole concert, wondering what she meant.”

Kyo gave him a doubtful look. “Come on, now, I’m pretty sure you can’t go five minutes without touching your hair even under regular circumstances.”

Die’s mouth dropped open in shock at the callout, but then Kyo was laughing, and he was laughing with him, and everything seemed right. It felt like they’d never had their strange period of distance from each other, like _this_ —laughing together, spending time outside of work—was what was _normal_.

“Let me drive you home,” Die said suddenly, without even thinking about it.

The suggestion seemed to catch Kyo off-guard just as much as it did Die himself, but he smiled just slightly, and accepted.

It was pretty seriously cold as they came out to the parking area to head for Die’s car, and Kyo was noticeably shivering, though he didn’t verbalize any complaint. Die spent a second wondering if he should offer his jacket or if that was too weird and forward. He decided against it; Kyo accepting a ride home from him didn’t mean anything more significant about their friendship, and it was still unclear if they’d even recovered things back to the point where they’d been during the winter recital.

Die couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop wondering where they stood, couldn’t stop trying to place perhaps more importance than was appropriate on their spending the evening together, even if it was by accident.

He was so preoccupied with thinking that he quite forgot to make any conversation, and the silence of their drive was only interrupted when Kyo finally spoke.

“You remember the way to my place?”

Die glanced over at him and back at the road. “Sure I do. As long as you haven’t moved.”

“I haven’t,” Kyo said. “I guess I’m just impressed.”

“You really haven’t been avoiding me?” Die blurted out, unable to help himself. “‘Cause I know you said—but it doesn’t _feel normal_ , not to me. Not anymore.” He turned his head towards Kyo, met his eyes. “ _This_ feels normal.”

Kyo was staring back and Die had to tear his gaze away, back out the windshield.

“I already told you,” Kyo said after a moment. “I’m sorry about canceling the lessons, I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy doing what?” It almost definitely wasn’t any of his business, but Die still had to ask. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Kyo said. “I just… I was actually helping out with an art class a few times, if you want to know.”

“Oh,” Die said. All at once he felt very stupid. Kyo, like him, only worked at the school part-time; it only made sense that he would have to supplement his income with other teaching gigs. “Where else are you teaching?” he ventured.

Kyo huffed out a short laugh. “Not teaching, not this time. I’ve been working as a model, for a life drawing class.”

“Oh,” Die said again. His face was getting hot. He wasn’t too ignorant about art to know that the models for those kinds of classes were often—well, _unclothed_. He tried not to picture it.

“Maybe you could come model, too,” Kyo said then.

Die’s head snapped round to look at Kyo, wide-eyed. “ _Me_?”

“If you want,” Kyo said. “They always need more models, variety of body types and all that. And it’s outside the city, so not much chance you’d run into someone you know. As long as you can sit still for a while, I’m sure you could do it.”

Die swallowed and tried to concentrate on driving the car, instead of answering. They were almost to Kyo’s place; he could make it there without totally losing his cool. Thinking of himself doing something like that was difficult, but honestly, he was having a harder time trying to _not_ think about Kyo, posing for a whole class of artists, not even acknowledging all the hungry eyes taking him in. An unbidden little pang of jealousy hit him at their all having gotten to see more of Kyo than even he had.

By the time he was pulling into a space in Kyo’s lot, there was a strange new air between them. It almost felt like dropping someone off after a date. They’d watched a show together, talked and laughed, maybe even flirted, and now he was returning Kyo to his home.

Actually, it was kind of the best date Die had been on in a while.

“Thank you,” Kyo said when Die had the car in park, “for driving me. It was good, to… hang out with you again.”

Die smiled. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Then Kyo paused, chewing his lip, one hand on the car door handle. But before Die could ask what was wrong, Kyo shocked him by asking, “Do you wanna come up?”

And Die shocked himself even more by answering, “Okay.”


	17. Chapter 17

Die should have been able to easily predict what the inside of Kyo’s apartment would look like.

Really there was nothing particularly unexpected about the artsy and vaguely creepy environment into which he found himself walking, and yet he was super uncomfortable anyway, with the unsettling art pieces hanging on the walls or the ghoulish figurines and statuettes grinning at him from jam-packed bookshelves.

Die stood clutching his coat to his chest, afraid to move from the place just inside the living room that he’d come to. He could see an easel, facing away from him in the far corner, along with drawers and bins of art supplies, close to overflowing. That part of the room looked a little safer, and he wanted to move towards it, but he stayed put, too nervous to take another step.

Kyo returned from hanging up his own jacket and looked Die up and down, bemused. “What are you doing?”

“Just waiting for you,” Die said. He wasn’t about to admit that he was kind of afraid of Kyo’s apartment when he had no reason to be.

Kyo cocked his head, then shrugged and walked past Die to the tiny kitchen. “Want something to drink?” he asked over his shoulder. “I’ve got… coffee, tea, water, coke…”

Die tried not to be aware of how he hadn’t offered alcohol, presumably because he knew Die would need to drive home later. That was just considerate, right?

“Some green tea would be great.”

He still hadn’t made it any farther into the room, and just kept staring around at everything, like it might be angered by his disturbing the space.

When Kyo reappeared at the entrance to the kitchen, he stopped dead. “The hell is wrong with you? Come sit down!”

Die gestured awkwardly with his coat. “I was just—I didn’t know where I—”

“Are you cold?” Kyo asked, frowning. “Here.” He took the few short strides into the living room proper and knelt to turn on the electric carpet. “Come sit.” He stood up, snatched Die’s coat from him as he passed, and hung it on a hook near the door. “If you’re still cold, let me know, I’ll get you a blanket or something.”

“Okay,” Die said, and he went to sit down. He decided not to think too intimately about how he kind of liked Kyo taking charge and bossing him around.

Only once he was sitting and Kyo had returned to the kitchen did Die notice the guitar on its stand in the corner opposite the art supplies, and a little pilot light went on in his heart.

“Did you want anything with this?” Kyo called. “I think I’ve got some senbei and there should be some cookies—but I already ate all the chocolate ones, so it’s whatever’s left.”

“That’s fine,” Die said. “Anything’s fine.” He was still looking at the guitar, his hands itching to pick it up and at least check that it was in tune.

He managed to resist for the few minutes it took for Kyo to come in balancing two cups of tea and two pretty little decorative snack bowls that Die felt sure must’ve been gifts.

“Tea is hot, so if you end up burning yourself don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Thank you," Die said, taking his cup from Kyo so he could more easily set everything else down. “Have you been playing your guitar?”

Kyo glanced over at the instrument, looking surprised. “Oh geez, you gonna be my teacher, scold me for not practicing?”

“Only if you're not practicing,” Die said. Something about holding the too-warm tea cup—or maybe it was just Kyo coming to sit with him—had him finally relaxing ever so slightly. “And I mean, I _am_ your guitar teacher.”

Kyo laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and he tried to take a sip of his tea, only to curse and hiss in pain.

“Tea’s hot,” Die commented. “Don’t say you didn’t warn you.”

Kyo flipped him off, but he was laughing again, and it was definitely something Die could get used to.

It was also sort of distracting, how Kyo rather pitifully stuck out just the tip of his tongue, getting cool air on his burn. Die found it nearly impossible to look away from, and he was just lucky Kyo didn’t seem to notice.

After a minute of this, neither of them speaking, Kyo said, “I do practice. I’m just not that good.”

“What makes you say that? I’m sure you’re better than you think you are.”

Kyo looked dubious. “It’s nice that you think so.”

“Why don’t you play me something and we’ll see who’s right?”

Kyo hesitated, then got to his feet and crossed the room to take the guitar from its stand. He looked down at it, then surprised Die by coming back and thrusting it into _his_ hands instead.

“I’ve never really heard you play, you know,” he said. “I’m sure it’d be much more impressive than anything I could do.”

Die thought about protesting, or insisting that Kyo play for him as his student, but the truth was that he wasn’t Kyo’s teacher here, and he did kind of _want_ to impress him. He took the instrument from him, and smiled to himself, pleased, when he found that it was properly tuned.

“What should I play?” he asked.

“Anything you like playing,” Kyo said, and took his seat, it seemed, just a bit closer to Die than he had been before.

Die didn’t want to spend too long mulling over his options in case Kyo lost interest, and so just allowed his hands to move on instinct, and what came out happened to be an original piece, one he’d never actually played for anyone else before.

Kyo remained quiet as he played, but Die could feel how his eyes never left him, even though he himself was making such an effort to keep his gaze elsewhere. It ended up falling, as it sometimes did, on Kyo’s hands, one on the floor that he was leaning back on, the other resting casually over his knee, until he brought it up to trace a finger back and forth across his own lower lip.

It was obviously a completely unconscious gesture, but Die was mesmerized, unable to drag his eyes away from Kyo’s full lips as he played through the rest of his song on autopilot, and felt thankful that he didn’t get so distracted he had to stop playing altogether.

Only by some miracle did Die finish the song with his dignity intact, and then he didn’t know what to do next. He sat there holding the guitar and just waiting for Kyo to break the silence, which he did eventually.

“What was that? Should I have recognized it?”

Die shook his head. “You wouldn’t, it’s—I wrote it.”

A smile flickered across Kyo’s features, then seemed to rein itself in. “My first time hearing one of your compositions.”

“Not like I write songs regularly,” Die said. “Just when inspiration strikes.”

“I’d like to hear more sometime,” Kyo said. “Does it have lyrics?”

“Oh, um… nothing concrete,” Die said. “I have some ideas, but that’s not really something I know much about.”

Kyo nodded. “Well, if you ever want a second opinion, someone to bounce lyric ideas around with, I… have written my fair share of poetry. Maybe I could help.”

“That’s really—Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” Die didn’t put the guitar away, even though he’d finished playing it. There was some comfort just in having it in his lap, and he didn’t want to let go unless Kyo asked him to specifically.

Kyo, however, shifted the topic from the guitar by standing up again, this time crossing to where his art supplies were scattered in their state of (presumably organized) chaos.

Die turned to try to watch what he was doing. “What’s over there?”

“It’s only fair,” Kyo said. “You showed me yours, I ought to show you mine.” He took the canvas from the easel and held it facing Die. “This one’s not really finished, but…”

“This is what you've been working on recently?" Die cocked his head to look at it. In its unfinished state, it was sort of tricky to say for sure what it was depicting, but it gave Die the impression of smoke, of something lost, or intangible.

He didn’t really know if it would be appropriate for him to share that kind of interpretation with Kyo. Especially given that it was an incomplete work, and Kyo was clearly displaying some vulnerability letting Die see it, Die wasn’t sure what the etiquette was for how to comment on someone’s art. With the kids, he’d learned not to guess what they were drawing in case he was way off and caused offense. Kyo was an adult, but was it still best to err on the side of caution?

Rather than try to offer his unqualified analysis, Die went for the simpler, but still true, "I like it.”

He thought Kyo would laugh at him, make some snarky reply, but he looked pleased, perhaps even bashful as he looked down at the work himself. “It’s not finished,” he said again.

“Well, I look forward to seeing the final vision,” Die said. He wanted to ask more about it, but felt like it could be a faux pas to discuss it too much while it was still in progress, and then Kyo was turning, putting the canvas back in its place. Instead he asked, “Do you ever have art shows? Somewhere people can see _your_ art, not just the kids’? Maybe buy a piece from you?”

Kyo didn’t look at him as he scooted a few things around in his stacks of art paraphernalia, his fingertips lingering on one large spiral bound book. “It’s not really an option for me right now,” he said, then walked away from everything, back towards where Die was sitting. “Anything as public as a show could reflect poorly on the school, I don’t want that.”

“But,” Die said, frowning, “you’re an artist.”

“And I still am,” Kyo said. “Just in the meantime, if I sell my art, I do it privately, where none of the kids I teach can stumble upon it by mistake.”

“What if you could present your work anonymously?” Die suggested. “Or under an assumed name?”

“That’s how I make the sales I do get, online,” Kyo said. “But as long as I’m teaching I don’t want too much of what I do to become about living a double life. I don’t mind putting my main focus on my students.”

Die couldn’t be surprised by that answer, but he still didn’t like the idea of Kyo limiting himself so consciously.

“I like being able to make the kids my priority,” Kyo said, despite how Die had chosen not to argue. “If my evenings and weekends were booked up with my own art shows, how could I drop everything to go see a ballet recital on a Saturday night?”

Die smiled. "That's a good point. Or even a Sunday afternoon."

"If it wasn't sold out."

At that, Die gave him a somewhat dubious look. "Do you really think the Sunday performance was sold out, or did Maiko-chan just want you to come tonight?”

Kyo tilted his head. “Why would it make a difference to her?"

To be fair, that was the part Die hadn't been able to figure out either.

A slow smile came onto Kyo's face, and he leaned closer to Die. "I suppose there is _one_ benefit of my coming to tonight's show, though."

Die couldn’t look away, felt like Kyo was close enough he could just breathe him in. “Oh?” he said, barely managing with how dry his mouth had gone. "What's that?"

Right when Die was starting to feel overwhelmed by the eye contact going on, Kyo looked off to the side, and said casually, “Well, now I have Sunday completely wide open! Nothing to do, I could just stay in bed the whole day if I wanted to. I’m completely _free_.” He looked back at Die. “What about you?”

A lot seemed to be happening suddenly, with Kyo’s eyes and Kyo’s lips, and he was still so close—Die was flustered, but he knew Kyo had asked him something. “Y-yeah,” he said. “No Sunday plans.” Belatedly, he remembered that wasn’t entirely true, and had to backpedal, saying, “Or—well, I am having dinner with Shinya, but that’s not until evening.”

Kyo reacted a bit strangely to that, his eyes shuttering and his movements almost mechanical as he shifted back out of Die’s space. “Oh, really. That sounds nice.”

It didn’t sound quite like something Kyo would normally say, but Die opted to take it as a positive, that Kyo and Shinya were gradually trying to work out their differences and he was making an effort to be polite. “Yeah, it should be good,” he said, hoping to encourage the reconciliatory motion. “It’s always nice to get dinner with him, we have so much to talk about.”

Kyo nodded. “I guess you would.”

“Right.” Die swallowed, wet his lips, and leaned towards Kyo slightly, over the guitar he was still holding, trying to regain some of that closeness that had gotten lost. “But my _morning_ …”

“Oh, man, morning,” Kyo said, pulling back, and abruptly getting to his feet. “Um, wow, what time is it? It’s getting late, and I just remembered, I—I have a thing. We should call it a night.”

Die felt sure there were question marks visibly floating over his head. “A-a thing? What kind of—What happened to being ‘ _completely free_ ’?”

Kyo shrugged. “You know, that was what I thought. Looks like I was wrong.” He calmly took the guitar from Die, and walked over to put it back on its stand. “It is getting late.”

Die was completely lost. It was like he’d fallen asleep in the move theater, only to awaken in the last fifteen minutes with no clue who the characters were or what was going on.

But he wasn’t clueless to the obvious fact that Kyo was throwing him out, and if he didn’t want him there, Die didn’t want to overstay his welcome. Confused as he was, he stood up. “Guess I should get going then.”

Kyo stayed standing by the guitar on its stand, arms crossed over his chest. “Have a safe drive home.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Die crossed to the genkan, put his shoes on in silence, and took his jacket from the hook by the door. “So then. I’ll see you around school…?”

“Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

There were so many things Die wanted to ask, whether he’d done something to piss Kyo off, if he’d been too forward trying to flirt with him, what it all meant going forward—but the impassive way Kyo was watching him made him think he’d better keep his questions to himself.

Just as he opened the door, though, Kyo said his name, and Die turned to look back at him.

“Thanks again for the ride home,” Kyo said, finally stepping towards him, “and for coming up.” He hesitated, then smiled in a strained sort of way. “I’ll be there for my guitar lesson on Friday, I promise.”

“Good,” Die said. “Okay. That’s good.”

“Goodnight.” Kyo held the door until Die was fully through it, then closed it behind him.

Die stood outside in the cold night air, still holding his coat, for a solid two minutes before moving towards the stairs. He thought he should be pleased, to know that Kyo wouldn’t be canceling his next lesson, that he wasn’t actively avoiding him, but it was hard to get past his feelings of general confusion, and he went home with his thoughts still all mixed up.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, love you guys. It's probably getting repetitive, but I hope y'all are staying safe and healthy. <3

It was good that they talked. Truly, Die was happy that they’d had the chance, was relieved to know he could look forward to Friday's lesson with him, but he couldn’t put aside the concern he felt over Kyo pulling away, again.

Much as he tried to focus on the positives, Die spent a good chunk of Sunday worrying, and wondering what his next step should be. He wasn’t even completely sure whether he’d done something to upset Kyo for which he needed to atone, or Kyo had honestly just sent him home because he had an early morning the next day.

It didn’t make sense, when he had been so sure they were connecting, with the laughing and the sharing of art and all that physical closeness…

In the afternoon, he received a text message from Maiko’s mother, thanking him for coming to the ballet, and including the photos she’d taken of him and Kyo with her daughter.

They were cute pictures, but Die found himself focusing on Kyo, on the brightness of his eyes and the earnestness of his smile as he posed, standing hardly a head taller than Maiko, with Die’s arm draped casually across his shoulders behind her. Something about it looked so natural, it was hard to believe this was the only photo Die had ever seen of the two of them together. Well, the two of them and Maiko, with her innocently mischievous smile, whatever her aim had been.

Presumably Kyo had been sent the same photos—if Maiko’s mother even had his phone number. Die wondered if he should ask, offer to forward them himself, but she hadn’t mentioned anything, so maybe there hadn’t been any trouble.

And he still didn’t know what he’d done to get thrown out of Kyo’s place.

No matter how he wracked his brain, he couldn’t find an explanation. He even had the passing thought that the mention of Shinya might have put Kyo off, because of the history of moderately bad blood between them, but he dismissed it. After everyone’s joint effort on the fundraiser, Die felt confident that things with Shinya and Kyo were healing, and the mere mention of Shinya’s name couldn’t trigger such a dramatic mood swing.

If he was being perfectly honest though, Die was a bit nervous about his dinner with Shinya himself. They’d gone out for meals together so many times, maybe it was silly, but they’d never done so while Die _knew_ Shinya was in a relationship with someone else.

He didn’t think it should change anything, but he didn’t know what to expect. Would Shinya act as if nothing had changed, or would he want to talk about his not-so-new girlfriend? Maybe it would be nice for Die to learn more about someone who was so important to his friend.

Then again, Shinya had failed to mention that Namiko even _existed_ until Die met her face-to-face, so maybe it was unrealistic to think he’d feel like sharing much information.

In the end, sitting down to dinner with Shinya didn’t feel so strange. The main thing wrecking the experience was how Die’s thoughts were still so centered on Kyo and his peculiar behavior the night before. Looking at Shinya sitting so calmly across from him, Die even thought about asking for his advice; he’d always valued Shinya’s opinion, and he could often see things that Die was blind to on his own.

He stopped himself before any question made it out of his mouth. Even with the progress that had been made, Die felt a little bit wary when it came to discussing Kyo with Shinya. And he was’t sure he was ready to divulge the depths of his feelings to Shinya anyway, after Shinya had been so keen on keeping his relationship private to the point of secrecy.

Instead, he asked after Namiko, how things were going with her, though he tried to keep from being too interrogative.

Shinya sighed and leveled him with a serious look. “You’re upset that I didn’t tell you about her.”

“I’m not upset,” Die said. “What is there to be upset about? I’m happy for you, honestly.” He took a sip of his drink, and Shinya just went on staring at him. “Okay, maybe I’m just confused about _why_ you kept it from me, but that’s all.”

“I didn’t know how you would react.”

“What, like I’d fly into a jealous rage over it?” Die said. “No offense, Shinya, but I’m not quite that hung up on you.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Shinya said, shaking his head. “I just felt like… I like what we have now, our friendship. I didn’t want that to change if you knew i was seeing someone.”

“I like our friendship, too,” Die said, “but I admit, I thought part of that friendship was sharing things with each other.”

Shinya raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. “Nicely executed guilt trip, I didn’t expect that from you.”

“I’m not trying to guilt you,” Die said. “Well, not mostly. I just hate to think it was because of _me_ , that you felt like I wouldn’t be happy for you.”

Shinya paused then, staring down at his dinner. “It wasn’t just you,” he said eventually. "I guess I don’t know exactly, I don’t know how to explain it. I think I was being selfish, but I can’t give you details about my motivations when I don't fully understand them myself.”

That sounded fair enough to Die, who couldn’t understand his own feelings half the time.

“And of course it was just worse when you suddenly wanted to bond with Kyo so much—I know, I know, it’s not comparable,” Shinya said, cutting off an argument Die was certainly never going to make. “I did feel better when I realized it wasn’t like _that_ between the two of you.”

Die opened and closed his mouth, tried again. “Like—like _that_?”

Shinya ignored his interruption. “But it seemed like you had your own thing going on.”

Die wasn’t sure what to say. Part of him wanted to insist that Shinya was wrong, that he didn’t know the first thing about how “it” was between him and Kyo, but the truth was that Die hardly knew either. He knew by now how he wanted it to be, but evidence didn’t suggest that was how it _was_. And what would contesting such a point accomplish anyway?

It was true at least that he’d been too preoccupied to do much with Shinya’s relationship news. Maybe if he hadn’t been, it wouldn’t have caught him so much by surprise.

He didn’t want to say any of it, didn’t want to acknowledge Shinya’s assessment of his and Kyo’s “it” or lack thereof, so he segued into another subject.

“Yes, I guess I have been busy, especially now, with this library stuff happening,” he said, watching for Shinya’s reaction.

Shinya didn’t seem fazed. “Oh, great, did you get to meet with Kaoru-san? She’s lovely, isn’t she?”

“I did, yesterday,” Die said and frowned. “Is there a reason you never mentioned _her_ either? I had to hear indirectly all about how highly you think of me.”

“Well, I can’t say that kind of thing to your face, it’d go to your head.”

“Shin…”

“What?” Shinya said. “Do you want me to apologize? I thought you’d be excited to work with her, it seems like just the kind of thing you’re usually into, arts programs for children and all that.”

“Sure, it is,” Die said, “generally speaking. It just feels weird that you keep putting my name out there for things without asking, or even _telling_ , me about them. It might be nice to not be caught by surprise for once.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way about it,” Shinya said. “I suppose next time I ought to just leave your name out of the conversation.”

Die wondered if this was exactly the kind of thing Shinya had been worried about: these small tensions and disagreements that seemed so much more prominent and uncomfortable today. Was it really a change caused by Shinya seeing someone, or was it something else?

“I like that you think of me,” Die said. “I just… You know how I feel, about people talking behind my back.”

“You make it sound like I’m spreading nasty rumors.”

“Even if it’s all positive,” Die said, “I’d rather know about it, instead of hearing it down the line from someone else. Kind of like hearing about your girlfriend.”

It was clear that Die had struck another nerve, and for a moment he was worried that Shinya would go into full-on silent treatment mode, which he knew from experience was _deeply_ unpleasant.

But then Shinya spoke. “You’re right. I haven’t communicated as much as I should, and that’s not something I can pin on you." He tilted his head. “Though I don’t usually expect you to call me on it.”

Die wasn’t used to Shinya backing down and apologizing (in his way) either, mostly because any wrongdoing could rarely be called his fault. This was a highly unusual dinner.

At the same time, he couldn’t let him take all the blame. “That’s just how it goes sometimes. I haven’t told you everything either.”

Surely, the appropriate thing to do then would have been for Die to open up, come clean about the feelings he’d been keeping from Shinya.

However, whether out of spite or just plain cowardice, Die wasn’t quite at a point where he was prepared to do that, and with some faltering sort of steps, they transitioned into talking about other things.

It started to feel a little more normal, as they went on about the library’s programs for children, about Freddy and his struggles. Die didn’t bring up anything about Kyo’s sticker chart and how they’d consistently failed to include him in their specialized learning plan for Freddy, but it was something he was wondering about more and more.

By the end of the evening, Die was feeling better about Shinya, comforted to know that his having a girlfriend hadn’t come between them as friends. They could still talk freely about many things, even if their personal lives weren’t necessarily among those.

What he didn’t feel much better about was the situation with Kyo, but at least he had some time leading up to his guitar lesson on Friday to think about how to adjust his behavior to make Kyo more comfortable.

Naturally, though, Kyo's comfort wasn’t the main thing on his mind. He was too busy feeling absolutely giddy that he would get to spend that time with him at all. Maybe things weren’t 100% back to “normal,” but Die could move at Kyo’s pace, gradually get them to where they were okay around each other again, and that would start at Friday’s lesson.

He probably should have expected that it wouldn’t be that easy. He should have at least prepared himself for the possibility of difficulty, but he was so excited to have a lesson with Kyo, to have time set aside for him, and to hear what he’d been practicing, that he wasn’t much focused on logical predictions.

Nevertheless, Kyo being late was a good first indicator that something might be off. He worked in the same building, so there was no reason why he shouldn’t be on time. He’d never been late before, either, and Die was on the verge of going downstairs to look for him, when Kyo came in, looking flustered, sagging under the weight of everything he was carrying.

“Whoa, careful,” Die said, jumping up to keep him from crashing his guitar into something. “You got everything okay?”

Kyo nodded, waving off Die’s attempts to take something from him, and shuffled over to his chair to set down the guitar, followed by a heavy backpack, and his overstuffed messenger bag.

“You aren’t usually carrying this much stuff,” Die said.

“No,” Kyo agreed with a sigh. “I said I wouldn’t cancel our lesson, so I’m going to help out at a later art class tonight, I have to go straight after.”

“And you need to take all this stuff with you?”

Kyo gave him a surprisingly scathing look. “I’m afraid I don’t have your option of just leaving some things in the car.”

“I just meant, for an art class where you’re going to be— _modeling_ , do you really need to carry so many bags?”

Kyo huffed irritably, and gestured to the backpack. “ _This_ is full of everything I need for school, which I have to take _with_ me, because I can’t just leave it _here_ , and that—” He gestured to the messenger bag—“has all this other shit in it—the instructor is teaching a children’s class this weekend, and I promised to bring him some of the examples I’ve done for my classes here.”

“Oh,” Die said, feeling a bit stupid for trying to act like he knew anything about what Kyo might need to cart around with him. “That’s nice of you.”

Kyo sat down, dragging the messenger bag into his lap. “And _some_ where in here is my damn sheet music…” He began pulling things out haphazardly, dropping loose papers, files, and notebooks onto the floor beside his chair, until he found the single skinny yellow folder where he kept music and worksheets that Die gave him.

Die watched it all, powerless to help, though he really wanted to do something to ease Kyo’s evident tension. He’d hoped that seeing him, they would have a little more of a chance to talk, even if it was just casually, but now it really looked like Kyo wasn’t in the mood.

"Um, I guess since you’re so pressed for time, we’d better get started right away,” Die said, moving to take his own seat.

“That’s what I pay you for, right?” Kyo said, echoing Die’s words from their very first lesson, before Die even knew Kyo was his new student.

It saddened Die to hear him speak that way about their relationship now, but he just waited for Kyo to take out his instrument so they could begin. If Kyo had taken the pains to be present for a guitar lesson specifically, then that was what he would get.

Especially since he was making a _lot_ more mistakes than usual.

Maybe that made sense, since he hadn’t had a lesson in so long, but it was obvious that he was growing more and more frustrated with himself, and Die’s attempts to soothe and reassure him only made it worse.

“Could you stop being so fucking condescending for five minutes?” Kyo snapped after Die reminded him again to _take his time_. “I’m not one of your kids, I’m fucking up, you can stop _coddling_ me.”

Die was taken aback. "I wasn’t trying to coddle you, I just don’t want you to get so worked up—”

Kyo glared at him. “Then how about giving me something _constructive_?”

Die had never seen Kyo so cranky during a lesson, and was kind of at a loss for how to give him what he needed. After a moment’s internal debate, he set his teaching instrument aside, and went around behind Kyo.

“It’s your pinky finger here,” he said, leaning down to position it better. “You need to bend it more, press _down_ , otherwise you’ll get that buzz.”

Surprisingly, Kyo’s hand did not move easily as Die tried to place it, instead tensing up even more.

Die frowned. "You won’t be able to change chords quickly if you keep your hand tight like that. You need to be able to move your fingers or you’ll strain something.” He pried Kyo’s left hand away from the neck of the guitar completely, and shook his wrist, trying to encourage it to loosen up.

Kyo was still oddly resistant, and if he’d been one of Die’s child students, Die might have just put his hands on his hips and threatened to mention this obstinance to Kyo’s parents. As it was, he just tried to stumble on, replacing Kyo’s fingers on the appropriate frets, in spite of their stiffness.

It didn’t help any that Die found himself a bit distracted by even this limited contact. Standing so close, he was able to pick up on small differences in Kyo’s styling of his hair, or his scent—was he wearing a cologne he didn’t normally wear? And his shirt, Die hadn’t seen it before, nor had he seen him leave so many top buttons undone. Kyo was… _dressed up_.

For just the briefest of moments, Die allowed himself to imagine that it was for _his_ sake, but the notion was quickly pushed from his mind as he recalled that Kyo had another appointment after his lesson. That now familiar jealousy flared up then, at the thought that Kyo would go out of his way to look good for all these strangers he’d be modeling for, who would very likely see him _naked_ , so what was the point in dressing up anyway?

Unless that wasn’t really where Kyo was going at all. Perhaps that extra backpack was actually an overnight bag, and he just hadn’t wanted to tell Die that he was going on a _date_.

Both possibilities twisted uncomfortably in Die’s gut, and he must have spaced out a little too hard thinking about them, because Kyo waved a hand in front of his face, hissing to get his attention, and when Die looked at him he was scowling, clearly displeased.

“What’s your problem?” Kyo said, sounding a bit defensive. “I thought it sounded better that time.”

Guilt seized Die and shook him; he was supposed to be instructing and guiding Kyo’s playing, and he hadn’t even been listening, all because he’d been too busy mentally objectifying him, basically. That definitely crossed a line.

“I’m sorry,” Die said, and moved back to his seat. Standing that close to Kyo was just asking for trouble. “Why don’t you try playing it one more time?”

Kyo still looked grumpy, but he sat up in his seat and played the section again, and with his fingers better positioned this time, the sound was clear.

“That’s good,” Die said, but he was back to wondering if he ought to try to talk to Kyo about the other night and its abrupt end. It wasn’t appropriate to spend Kyo’s lesson time on personal conversation, but if Kyo was really seeing someone new, then Die would rather find out if it was his own fault for pushing him away. Besides, with how absorbed he was with these kind of thoughts anyway, maybe it was better for them to _talk_ , get it out in the open. He could offer to not charge him for the day.

Suddenly, Kyo let out another angry huff, and Die snapped back to attention.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“You know, I went to the trouble to arrange my schedule so that I could be here today,” Kyo said. “After what you said, I felt bad for skipping out on you so many times—for reserving the time, and then not paying you, I think that’s a shitty thing to do.” He tapped his fingers on the body of his guitar. “But I don’t know what’s going on with you. You’re all over the place, and I don’t really see the point in showing up for lessons when the teacher’s not gonna do any teaching.”

“I’m sorry,” Die said again. “Truly. I… I don’t know what’s going on with me either. I was looking forward to this lesson with you, but I am—a little distracted.”

“No shit.”

“I know,” Die said. “It’s unprofessional.”

Kyo’s mouth moved to one side, and then he said, “Are you okay?”

The question felt like a slap to the face. Even through his bad mood, Kyo was reaching out and showing compassion and concern that Die hardly deserved. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to that… kindness.

At the same time, he didn’t think he could explain that he was preoccupied with overly intimate thoughts about Kyo, so he just shook his head and pasted on one of his practiced work function smiles.

“Just in my head a little bit, I’m sorry.”

The tension in Kyo’s posture eased just slightly. “It’s okay,” he said. “We all get like that sometimes. I know I do. Sorry, I’m probably not being a very easy student today either.”

“Maybe we’re both a bit rusty,” Die said.

It seemed like Kyo might smile, but all at once he gasped, turning to see the clock on the wall. “ _Shit_ , is that clock right?”

“Um. Yes?” Die looked, too. There were only four minutes left in the lesson.

“I have to get going,” Kyo said. “I can’t miss my train, I should have kept a better eye on the time.” He set to packing up without another word, picking up things he'd dropped on the floor earlier.

Die stood up awkwardly, feeling once again like he should do something to help. “Um, do you need a ride? If you’re gonna be late…”

Kyo gave him a quizzical look. “It’s not even in the city, no way are you gonna drive me way the hell out there just to drop me off.”

Really, Die would have, but based on Kyo’s reaction, maybe that was weird. He considered trying to rationalize it—Kyo had said before that Die could model too, maybe now was his chance—but he was loath to do anything that would either slow Kyo down or make him more irritated with him.

So he just stood there helplessly watching as Kyo shoved his music folder back into his bag with the teaching materials for the art instructor, and latched his guitar safely into its case.

“Same time next week?” Die said when Kyo stood up, and hoped his desperation wasn’t audible in those few words.

Kyo paused, looking at him, then nodded. “I’ll probably see you around before then though.”

“Yeah!” Die said, too eagerly. “In the halls, or whatever.” He waved as Kyo headed for the door, though he was too weighed down to return the gesture. “Have a good class!”

“Thanks,” Kyo said. “And thank you for today, as always.”

Simple as that, polite as he always was, Kyo gave a small bow, and walked out, leaving Die to look forlornly after him.

Maybe it hadn’t been a _complete_ bust, but Die was starting to feel like there was a dire communication problem between them. He never seemed to be able to find the right words with Kyo, and it… mattered. With some people, Die knew they weren’t listening closely to what he said anyway, but he got the feeling Kyo listened to him more intently even than Die listened to himself, and the words mattered.

With a regretful, self-pitying sigh, Die turned from the door and started cleaning up the music classroom, putting everything back in its proper place for classes the following week. He tried to keep in mind that this wasn’t his last and only chance to improve his relationship with Kyo, and with luck, the next time they met, Kyo wouldn’t be in such a sour, impatient mood right from the beginning.

He almost tripped over something as he lifted Kyo’s music stand to move it back to its regular spot, and had to stop and look down at the floor where one of Kyo’s notebooks was lying forgotten under his chair.

It was large, spiral-bound and vaguely familiar. Die set the music stand down and bent to pick up the notebook instead. He felt sure Kyo hadn’t meant to leave it, but knew it was too late to call him back.

Without thinking about it, he flipped it open to a random page, and realized it wasn’t just a notebook, but a _sketch_ book, filled with Kyo’s personal artwork. He turned another page, fascinated, and then the word echoed again in his head: _personal_.

Kyo hadn’t left it on purpose, hadn’t invited Die to browse through it on his own. For all Die knew, it could be private. With great effort, he closed it, even as his palms itched with curiosity and he longed to get a glimpse of some of Kyo’s inner workings.

Not without invitation.

A couple other loose pages had been left on the floor with the sketchbook, so Die gathered it all up, tucked them inside the front cover, and considered what he should do with it. It would probably be safe here in the music classroom over the weekend. There wasn’t much chance of anyone taking it, or even coming in, before Die’s next class there.

And yet some part of him didn’t want to leave it. What if something happened, out of his control? What if the school caught fire, or the sprinkler system malfunctioned, and it was ultimately _Die’s_ neglect that caused Kyo’s art to be irrevocably damaged? He couldn’t allow it.

So he decided to take the sketchbook home with him for the weekend. It just made sense, after all, to have it where he could keep an eye on it, and make sure it was safe.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit late, sorry!  
> Please note that the rating has gone up, as of this chapter...

Another Saturday was just what Die needed to clear his head. With no weekend obligations, he didn’t have to spend his time thinking about anything or any _body_ , and truly, such a break had been a long time coming.

It might actually have worked out that way, too, had it not been for that damned sketchbook Die had taken home with him.

He’d resisted the (overpowering) temptation to sneak another peek at its contents, but it was still lying there on the table in his living room, taunting him with its mystery. Even when he wasn’t staring at its relatively pain cover, physically holding himself back from opening it, he was thinking and wondering about it, weighing the guilt he would feel for betraying Kyo’s trust against his need to study every page.

There didn't seem to be much he could do to forget about it, but he still tried to busy himself with other things, like planning for his first library gig next weekend, organizing his assortment of teaching materials, and finally going through his YouTube channel and making the more embarrassing videos private.

It mostly worked. Honestly he made it through almost the entire day before he snapped, and just before ten pm, he snatched up the sketchbook and marched out to his car to take it to Kyo directly.

Only once he actually arrived at Kyo’s place did he realize how nuts he was being, just showing up with it. The sensible thing would have been to shoot Kyo a text, let him know he’d left it behind, and let him know he could get it on Monday.

Yes, that would have been the rational thing to do, but, well, he was already there, so he went up to Kyo’s floor and knocked at his door, torn between hoping he would answer and that he wouldn’t.

Kyo did answer the door, and he didn’t disguise his confusion at finding Die outside.

“Die? It’s… What on earth are you doing here? Now?”

“I know,” Die said. “I should have called, or—I don’t know why I didn’t. I just—You left this, yesterday.” He held up the sketchbook. “I thought you might want it.”

Kyo arched an eyebrow as he slowly took the book from him. “So you came to my apartment at ten o’clock on a Saturday night?”

“Service!” Die said, and punctuated his awkwardness with finger guns.

Kyo snorted, then looked down at the sketchbook in his hands. After a moment he asked, “Did you look at it?”

Die quickly shook his head, then stopped with a grimace. “I mean, I did open it, just to see what it was, but I only saw two or three pages, and then I thought it might be private, so I just wanted to return it to you.”

“And yet you’ve had it since yesterday afternoon.”

“That’s—I have, but—Originally I thought I’d just keep it safe for you over the weekend, but then I started to think—you might need it, sooner.”

Kyo still looked skeptical, but Die was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Relieved, Die let his shoulders relax. “Anyway, I just wanted to deliver that. So.” He took a step backwards from Kyo’s open door.

“Well—hold on,” Kyo said.

Die waited.

“Why don’t you come in? You drove all the way over here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose, I know it’s late…”

“It’s not imposing if I invite you,” Kyo said firmly. He held the door open wide. “Come in, get warm. I’ll bring out some tea.”

This time, Die was more prepared for the inside of Kyo’s home, and came inside without excessive hesitation. It was still weird and creepy, but now there was a familiarity to it as well.

As before, he went to sit in the living room while Kyo disappeared into the kitchen. He looked around the space, his eyes lingering on the guitar once more on its stand in the corner. Nothing seemed to have moved since he was there last week, and the deja vu of it all got him lost in thought.

Just where had he screwed this up last time? How could he avoid doing it again if he didn’t know what his mistake had been?

Kyo was giving him another chance at—something. He didn’t want to blow it again. He couldn’t afford to throw it away.

The sketchbook had been left on the floor, close enough that Die could reach out and touch it, and it felt like a test, to see whether he would try to be nosy about it while Kyo was out of the room. If so, it showed an underestimation of Die’s willpower, since he’d already been resisting that same urge all damn day.

When Kyo came in with the tea, he looked at the sketchbook first, then at Die. He handed him his cup and sat down.

“So,” Die said, “how was your class last night?”

“Boring,” Kyo said bluntly. “Holding still for that long is probably no one’s idea of a good time.”

Die still wasn’t sure he believed that that was where Kyo had been; there was no real way to tell just by looking at him if he’d been on a date 24 hours ago. At any rate, it was the story he was sticking with. “I guess you’d rather be teaching,” he said.

“Well, sure,” Kyo said with a shrug. “But right now… You know, our school is bullshit a lot of time, but I don’t want to jeopardize my gig there by teaching somewhere else.”

Die frowned. The conversation was almost as familiar as the rest of the apartment. “Your work at the school shouldn’t hold you back from what you want to do.”

“It doesn’t,” Kyo said impatiently. “How many times do I have to tell you?” He picked up the sketchbook from the floor, traced patterns on the pain cover. “Nothing stops me from making art. Even sitting there posing, I’m creating in my mind the whole time, it’s all part of the process.”

Before Die could think of a new argument, Kyo was sliding the sketchbook towards him.

“Just because I’m not teaching weekend classes for adults, and can’t show my work on a grand scale, that doesn’t mean I’ve been idle.”

Die looked down at the book. It seemed far too exciting to have it offered so freely, but he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. He tried to sound casual as he asked, “You’re sure I can take a look at it?”

“As long as I’m here to supervise it doesn’t seem too bad,” Kyo said.

That was enough for Die, and thankfully his hands didn’t shake as he picked up the sketchbook and took his time going through the pages, really exploring what Kyo had been creating recently.

A lot of it was fairly abstract, watercolor and pencil sketches with meanings he couldn’t guess at, though they were all certainly evocative, and some of them deeply _sad_. Perhaps it was just the winter season that brought emotions like that out in artists. Die had no way of knowing if there had been anything heavy going on in Kyo’s life by which he might have been affected.

The thought distracted him and he got stuck staring absently at one page longer than the others as he considered it. He remembered when he’d first seen Kyo’s art back in his classroom, how Kyo had told him that a lot of his darker art was inspired by real life pain, that he was in a better headspace now. In the time they’d worked together and grown closer, Die and Kyo had never become the type of friends who share details about their private lives, their personal triumphs and griefs outside of school. And Die had been so focused on the project at hand he’d barely even thought to ask. What he’d come across in this sketchbook so far was decidedly darker than anything he’d seen in Kyo’s other sketches; did that mean Kyo’s mood had taken a significant downswing since he’d shared his art with him the first time?

When Die finally realized he was just zoning out, stuck on a single page, he was somewhat startled to find it was a face that he’d been staring at—a man’s face, unfamiliar to him, but sketched with obvious care.

There was a story there, and Die wanted to ask for it, to demand to know who this stranger was, and who he was _to Kyo_ , but he knew it wasn’t his place, and so, after _far_ too long spent on that page, Die moved on, to silently study the rest of the sketches that he had been graciously granted permission to see.

He’d never officially done what he’d said he might at Kyo’s first guitar lesson, and assigned him art homework. It seemed that Kyo had managed fine finding inspiration all on his own, but Die still spared a thought to regret not doing it. If he had, maybe he would have gotten to see those assignments here in these pages, felt like he was really a part of it. Maybe the works he'd assigned him would have been a spot of happiness in the bleak landscape of these other sketches.

Kyo, for his part, remained patient, as seemed to be his style whenever Die looked at his art. Even when Die spent entirely too long fixated on one sketch, Kyo didn’t interrupt or offer any gratuitous explanation. He was not there to participate in Die’s experience of the art, only to observe—until Die turned another page, and Kyo suddenly snatched the sketchbook from his hands and snapped it closed.

“All right, I think that’s enough for today.”

“What do you mean!” Die said indignantly. “What did—I was just looking!” But his worry that he had done something to make Kyo retract his invitation to look freely ebbed as he took in the faint, embarrassed blush on Kyo’s cheeks, and realized there might have been another reason he’d pulled it away. “What don’t you want me to see?”

“Nothing,” Kyo said. “I mean—that’s not the issue, I’m not hiding anything. I just don’t think you want to waste your time looking through—”

“I don’t mind. I was enjoying it.” Die held out his hand. “I’d like to see more.”

Kyo hesitated, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

Die narrowed his eyes. “Is it something scandalous?”

“Scandalous? What is this, a tabloid?”

“If you’re not hiding it, then let me see,” Die said, lunging for the book.

Kyo held it out of his reach. “What are you doing? C’mon, you’re acting like one of the kids we work with!”

“Oh yeah? Would an elementary schooler do _this_?” Die dove, throwing himself forward to grab the sketchbook, only to have Kyo pull it back again.

Of course, in doing so, Kyo lost his balance and went toppling over backwards, with Die on top of him. They just narrowly avoided knocking over Kyo’s teacup, still mostly full.

Die held himself up with his hands braced on the floor on either side of Kyo’s head, and they stayed frozen like that, neither one speaking, too close to look anywhere but at each other.

After an impossibly long moment, Kyo laughed softly, a puff of air against Die’s face. “Am I the only one who’s noticed we seem to keep finding ourselves in situations like this?”

Die shook his head, his long hair tickling Kyo’s shoulder with the movement. “I’ve noticed,” he said, his eyes on Kyo’s lips. They were so close. What if this was his chance, the one he didn’t want to waste? He hadn’t made a move any time before, and he’d lived to regret it again and again. He couldn’t keep making the same mistake. “But I’m going to do something about it this time.”

He paused for all of a second before leaning in to kiss Kyo, decisively, and, he hoped, bravely, or that it at least appeared that way to Kyo, since the truth, that he was apprehensive and afraid, was too humiliating for Kyo to pick up on during their first kiss.

As it happened, Kyo didn’t seem troubled by such thoughts, judging by the way he kissed Die back, like it was inevitable, and how his hand came up to cup the back of Die’s neck, like perhaps he wanted this to happen whether it was inevitable or not.

It was a long time before Die pulled back, and even then he was reluctant. He hadn’t fully realized just how much he’d been wanting to kiss Kyo until his lips were pressed to his own. He’d known that he was _drawn_ to Kyo, that there was some chemistry there he wanted to explore, but he’d still never known that kissing him would feel—like _that_.

Kyo’s eyebrows were raised as he looked up at him. “Is that all?”

“Not even close,” Die said, and surged down to kiss him again, biting at Kyo’s lower lip. He was pleased by the soft little gasp he got for his efforts, and was determined to get more such sounds out of him, plus louder, less restrained ones.

Kyo got bolder, too, his hands delving into Die’s hair and staying there, one leg coming up to hook around Die's thigh.

It all felt so good, especially when Kyo’s tongue slipped into Die’s mouth, moving with almost disconcerting precision, until Die was shuddering, trying to hold himself back from losing control completely.

Although why did he really need to hold himself back? They were all sober adults on a Saturday night, and Kyo certainly seemed just as interested as Die. Sure, it was potentially awkward with them working together, but it wasn’t necessarily a problem, since there wasn’t some kind of power imbalance to worry about.

And if he was being honest, Die didn’t have a mind for such concerns just then anyway, not with Kyo’s tongue sliding against his own, and his surprising strength keeping him close enough to feel the rise and fall of Kyo’s chest.

Die wanted more, but he was afraid to suggest it out loud, in case that broke the spell and Kyo realized this wasn’t what he wanted at all.

Kyo cut off that line of thinking before it got too far, saying, “Do you want to move this to the bedroom?”

There was a nervousness in his face that Die wasn’t used to seeing, but still he waited for Die’s response as patiently as ever.

Actually, Die wasn’t sure why his own response was taking so long to come out of his mouth, besides that maybe he kind of liked the idea of ravaging Kyo right there in the middle of the living room floor.

Finally he got his voice to work, and said, “If you want. Right here is okay with me, too.”

Kyo snorted, and pushed lightly at Die’s shoulder. “Fewer things to be knocked over in there.”

Only when Die got up off Kyo did he realize how affected he’d been, that close to him, his cock already half-hard in his pants. He adjusted himself discreetly, and smoothed the wrinkled front of his shirt, while Kyo switched off the heated carpet and took the teacups back to the kitchen.

The sketchbook lay abandoned once more on the floor, and Die might have easily gone back to the page Kyo had stopped him from seeing, found out just what it was that he wanted to keep hidden. But he didn’t really want to. So much of what Die enjoyed about Kyo’s art was his willingness to share it with him. He didn’t feel he needed to betray that trust when he was so close to getting something, arguably, better.

Kyo gave him a strange look when he came back from the kitchen. “Just standing around the living room again, hm?”

“Where else was I supposed to go?”

“I told you, the bedroom,” Kyo said, brushing past him, but something in how he said it confused Die, bothered him a little bit.

“Did you think I was going to sneak out while you were in the other room?”

Kyo stopped, halfway down the short hallway which led presumably to his bedroom, and turned towards Die. “Do you want to?”

“Not at all,” Die said, shaking his head. He took the few steps necessary to bring himself close enough to take Kyo’s hand. “Not sure how you can doubt at this point how much I want you, but I’d only leave if you asked me to.”

There was a long pause, in which Kyo stared down at Die’s hand holding his, then back up to Die’s eyes, searching, evaluating. “C’mon then” he said at last.

Kyo’s bedroom had a similarly chaotic feel to his little art corner. It wasn’t large, the furniture was simple, and nearly every surface was littered with loose accessories and half-finished projects, some assortments of sketches even tacked to the walls in places. Die didn’t mean to be distracted by it all, when they’d come in there for a reason, but as Kyo switched on a bedside lamp, he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering, trying to take it all in.

“Sorry about the mess,” Kyo said, moving a small heap of clothing off the bed. “I won’t lie and say it’s usually tidier, but I don’t have company very often.”

"No, it's fine,” Die said. “It’s great.” He crossed to where Kyo was standing by the bed, still looking far less sure of himself than looked right on him. Die was determined to ease that doubt. He plucked at Kyo’s shirt. “Think we could take this off?”

That put a small smile on Kyo’s face, and he complied, starting to undo the buttons without taking his eyes off of Die.

It was sort of a struggle to maintain eye contact; Die really wanted to watch what those nimble fingers were doing, what they were revealing to him. He’d always liked Kyo’s hands, ever since he’d had to reposition them at Kyo’s first guitar lesson. They were elegant hands, artist’s hands, and Die didn’t really want to look away from them.

But Kyo’s eyes had their own hold on him too, especially now, when they were darker than Die had ever seen them and locked on him. With a weird, gradual suddenness, Die was realizing that every part of Kyo was beautiful, and he’d known that longer than he wanted to admit.

There were, however, some parts of Kyo that Die was truly seeing for the first time: like when his unbuttoned shirt finally slipped from his shoulders and Die could discover just how many tattoos Kyo’s clothing usually covered.

“Oh, wow,” Die said, running his hands over the decorated skin before he could even think about it. He’d never really known he was into tattoos before, but okay, apparently they did something for him.

“Not a turn-off, then?” Kyo teased, but he didn’t seem to mind how Die was touching him.

Unable to think of some intelligent response, Die opted to just be kissing Kyo again. There was always time to hold a conversation when he wasn’t in Kyo’s bedroom, halfway through getting him undressed. He was getting pretty tired of waiting for all the non-talking parts.

Kyo kissed him back just as impatiently, some of that shyness eliminated probably by how Die couldn’t stop touching him. He gasped against Die’s mouth as Die’s thumb circled a nipple, and soon Die’s shirt was coming off too.

It wasn’t clear and it didn’t matter which of them was leading when they ended up on Kyo’s bed, stripped down to their boxers and still kissing and biting at each other like their lives depended on it. Die was on top of Kyo again, but there was no hiding this time how aroused he was, with Kyo’s warmth all pressed up against him.

He finally pulled away from Kyo’s lips only to kiss a trail down his neck, biting lightly as he went. The way Kyo would react to every little touch, arching and shuddering, spurred Die on until he’d reached the waistband of Kyo’s underwear, and was fully prepared to get them out of his way, when Kyo’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“I'm sorry,” Die said, sitting up, “I didn’t mean to rush things.”

Kyo shook his head. “You didn’t. You’re not. I just—I don’t want to wait to touch you, and I think if we take these off right now, I’ll get pretty distracted.”

It was hard to believe that he found Die so tempting, but Die knew better than to think Kyo would lie just to flatter him. He smiled and asked, “In that case, where do you want me?”

Kyo’s answer came in the form of flipping Die bodily so he lay on his back on the bed with Kyo looming over him. No one had ever manhandled him like that before, and damn, that was hot.

It seemed like the right time for some tension-breaking humor, but no quips came to mind as Kyo ran his delicate hands down Die’s chest, just touching and feeling and leaving a subtle sort of arousal in their wake.

Just as Kyo’s fingertips hit the edge of Die’s boxers, he stopped, moved them back up to dance across his collarbone instead. Die nearly whined in frustration, but he couldn’t complain when Kyo bent to kiss him, immediately licking into his mouth.

Die’s hands found their way to Kyo’s waist and didn't move from there as Kyo went on kissing him, nipping at Die’s lips, movements changing too rapidly for Die to predict where he would go next. He was caught by surprise when Kyo traveled across to his ear and his tongue swirled deftly around the shell before his teeth tugged ever so slightly at the lobe, and Die let out a startled moan.

He felt a breath of laughter against his neck before Kyo said, “You’ll have to give me a little time to learn all your weak spots.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’s taking you long at all.”

“I did say a _little_ time,” Kyo said. “But truly, if I’m gonna make you feel good…”

“You are already,” Die said, “but if you want suggestions…” He rolled his hips meaningfully, and Kyo laughed again.

“I would have thought in your line of work you’d have more patience.”

“I use it all up on the kids,” Die said.

“And the principal,” Kyo contributed.

“Occasionally. So you’re really gonna make me wait for you, too?”

“I was _going_ to work up to the final show, give you something to enjoy in the meantime, but now that I see you’re in such a rush to get it over with—”

Die caught his wrist as he started to pull back. “I don’t want it over with.”

It came out too serious, too honest. Like everything Die ever said to Kyo, it was awkward and clumsy and the timing was all wrong. It was a wonder they’d ever made it into bed together.

But Kyo just stayed still, looking at him, and finally replied, “Neither do I.”

Again, Die wondered whether they were rushing things, whether more talking was in order before they moved into such purely physical territory, but Kyo’s free hand slid down Die’s belly to rest over his clothed erection, and Die couldn’t pretend to imagine putting things off for them to talk.

He released Kyo’s wrist easily, and Kyo moved down his body, until he was kneeling between Die’s thighs.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” Kyo said, his fingers teasing once more around the elastic of Die’s boxers. He looked up at Die with hooded eyes. “Is it all right if I suck you off?”

Die’s brain skipped. “You’re—are you asking permission?” He was fairly sure Kyo was the sort to have never in his life asked before doing something he wanted, and yet he had come to a full stop, waiting, letting Die be the one to say go, instead of steamrolling over him. It was hard to process.

Kyo’s lips curved slyly. “May I please? I promise I’ll make it good for you. I just really want you in my mouth.”

“Jesus,” Die said, unsure how to deal with that kind of talk from Kyo. It was just so far outside the realm of what he usually heard him saying—which wasn’t to say he didn’t like it.

His response must have been enough of an acquiescence for Kyo, because he started slowly inching Die’s underwear down his hips, and when Die made no move to stop him, he removed them completely, albeit with some difficulty repositioning Die’s legs.

Only a second later Kyo had taken almost all of Die’s cock in his mouth and didn’t seem to be slowing down. Nor was he shy about how much he was enjoying it, rumbling moans vibrating around Die’s dick as Kyo forced it deeper, until his nose was brushing against the skin of Die’s belly, and drool was dribbling out over his lips.

Just looking at him like that was nearly enough to make Die blow his load, but he held on, both figuratively and literally, one fist tight in Kyo’s inordinately soft hair. The strands stuck up at all angles between his fingers, the texture grounding him, promising him that all of this was real.

It was still hard to believe, when Kyo was swallowing his cock down so eagerly, looking up at him with watery eyes, his lips red, stretched wide. Die didn’t think anyone had ever _looked_ at him like that before, with that _hunger_ and yet… almost-submission, simultaneously.

He wasn’t fool enough to think that Kyo was _really_ submitting to him. No, there was no doubt in Die’s mind that Kyo was entirely in control of what was happening, but the truth was he didn’t mind at all.

There was no one to impress, no real performance to worry about when he was with Kyo. From the very beginning, Kyo had seen through the masks that Die wore around everyone. He saw Die as he was, even when he was angry or stumbling or making a complete ass of himself, but it only brought them closer. If Die didn’t have authority in the bedroom, who was he to complain? Kyo was still sucking his dick better than anyone ever had.

In fact, if he hadn't been so up in his head, Die probably would have been in danger of cumming embarrassingly quickly.

“Kyo,” he said, pulling at his hair to get his attention.

“Hm?” Kyo pulled off, licked his lips. “You okay?”

Die nodded. “I’m—close, though. You’re really, wow, skilled.”

Kyo grinned up at him. His chin was still wet with saliva and pre-cum, and he showed no sign of caring. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Can I get you off this way, or did you want something else?” He dragged his tongue slowly up the length of Die’s cock, maintaining eye contact all the while.

There he was, asking permission again, as if Die had any prayer of telling Kyo what he could or couldn’t do.

“Please,” Die whispered, because the thought of Kyo’s mouth moving any distance away from his cock was sort of humiliatingly nightmarish.

But Kyo disobediently ducked his head further, mouthed at Die’s balls until he whimpered, then shouldered his thighs wider apart. Moving lower, he pressed his nose up against Die’s sac so he could flick his tongue over his taint.

Die wasn’t prepared, and he cried out hoarsely, unable to form the necessary words to tell Kyo to either stop or continue. He wasn’t sure which he wanted anyway.

Kyo held him firmly, keeping him from squirming too much as he went on teasing him, unfazed by the helpless kicking of one of Die’s feet, and only when Die had tears in his eyes did Kyo lift himself up to get his mouth back on Die’s cock.

“Shit!” Die said, bucking his hips without meaning to.

Kyo didn’t seem to mind; he just flicked his eyes up to Die’s face and let him thrust over his tongue.

There was something about that, about how calm and controlled Kyo was, now that Die was a desperate mess. When he’d started out sucking his cock, Kyo had been eager and sloppy, but having successfully brought Die to a state of such utter brokenness, he was now apparently content to watch the unraveling with half-lidded eyes, to stay still while Die fucked up into his mouth senselessly.

It was almost too good. Die didn’t want it to end, not when Kyo’s mouth was so warm and perfect around him, not when he stared at him so unflinchingly while Die felt himself splintering, exposed and unashamed to be that way in front of Kyo. He wanted to just keep riding that high forever.

Of course that was impossible. With how overwhelmed he was, he was lucky that he lasted even another _minute_ before he was holding Kyo down on his cock and cumming down his throat.

That was probably a bit rough, especially for their first time, but if Kyo was bothered he didn’t show it. He merely crawled up Die’s body and started kissing him with unrestrained need.

Die had no problem with that, and opened his mouth for Kyo’s tongue easily, moaning at the taste of himself there. He reached between them for Kyo’s neglected cock, still trapped in his underwear.

Kyo gasped as Die stroked him once through the rather damp material, and lowered his head, panting against Die’s neck.

“What do you want?” Die asked, since he truly would have given him anything. He kissed the curve of Kyo’s ear, his hand still cupping his erection.

“Fuck, want _you_ ,” Kyo said, rubbing himself against Die’s hand. He held Die’s shoulders for leverage and let out a needy sort of noise. “Just—just stay—I can cum like this, just—”

“I believe you,” Die said. “But at least let me…” He pulled Kyo’s boxers down enough to free his cock, letting it slide hard and slick against his hip.

Kyo swore at the change in friction, and rutted against Die that much more frantically, biting down on Die’s neck as he did so, making him hiss, though he wouldn’t have thought of stopping him.

There was something so incredible and animalistic about the way Kyo was moving on top of him Die almost had trouble reconciling it with the very calm, controlled man who had blown him only a few minutes ago. But it didn't surprise him to find that Kyo had so many sides to him in bed.

He couldn’t contribute much besides just letting Kyo use him; even rolling his hips up to meet Kyo’s was sort of tough with the erratic pace he was keeping, and Die couldn’t think of any encouraging words to say beyond _yes_ , and a few breathless whispers of Kyo’s name.

All too soon—admittedly sooner than Die would have liked—Kyo was seizing up over him, and with a short, whimpering cry, his cum was covering Die’s hip, smearing messily between them.

Die didn’t say or do anything to try to hurry Kyo along as he lay atop him, catching his breath. It was comfortable, in a strange sort of way, and as long as Kyo was comfy too, Die wasn’t in any rush for him to get off him, even so they could clean up.

Only when Kyo started to shift did Die’s feeling of contentedness wane. What was he supposed to do next? They hadn’t really talked about what this was. Did Kyo mean for him to just get dressed and take off? Would he even get another chance to kiss him?

“ _Wait_ ,” he blurted out, and Kyo froze, weight supported on one arm.

He squinted down at Die, sleepily. “What’s wrong?”

Die couldn’t find the words for how he wanted to preserve this moment, to keep it, capture it, that he might always remember this version of Kyo, soft and naked and without the walls that surrounded him when he interacted with other people, the hint of a smile still playing around his lips.

Tilting Kyo’s face just so, Die leaned up to kiss him, just an honest, sweet kiss, as if it might help him to hold onto the memory of this instant.

Kyo’s smile was a little more substantial when he pulled away. “What was that for?”

“I just wanted to kiss you,” Die said, choosing to leave out how he was worried he wouldn’t have a lot more opportunities.

“Well,” Kyo said, pushing himself to sit more or less upright, “if you’d like to kiss me a few more times, you’re welcome to join me in the shower.” He held out a hand, and Die took it eagerly, only too happy to accept such an invitation.

He followed Kyo to the bathroom, pleased to see that the wariness and uncertainty had all but melted out of Kyo’s posture, leaving a gentle nonchalance in its place. He didn’t bother waiting until they were actually inside the shower to kiss Kyo again.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone's safe and doing well as we're in the holiday season. In addition to the next chapter I'm going to do everything I can to finish this (totally unrelated) xmas fic I'm working on so I can post it next week! Love~

Die was awoken by sunlight streaming into the room at an unusual angle, and squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to roll away from it.

Something prevented him from turning fully though: Kyo, snuggled up to him, frowning slightly in his sleep at the movement. Die went so still he was hardly breathing, until Kyo relaxed, nuzzling into his pillow, one tattooed arm still draped across Die’s torso.

Trying not to disturb him again, Die craned his neck for anything in the room that would tell him the time. His phone was on the nightstand, and he reached for it carefully, slowly, in an effort to not wake Kyo.

It was unsuccessful, and Kyo made an unhappy noise as he curled up more, his fingers digging briefly into Die’s side.

“Sorry, sorry,” Die whispered. “Just trying to check the time.”

“’s’Sunday,” Kyo mumbled. “Don’ have to get up early. Day off.”

He seemed content to just fall back asleep, but Die was a little less sure. After what had happened the night before… Didn’t they need to talk about things? Maybe that could wait, but for how long?

On the other hand, maybe Kyo’s stubbornly refusing to wake up was his way of saying he didn’t want to talk at all. Would it be better for Die to try to slip out while Kyo was still dozing, get out of his hair and pretend none of it had ever happened?

He looked down at Kyo, sleeping once more, lips just parted, those pretty eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. He looked so comfortable, Die couldn’t stand the thought of accidentally waking him as he tried to sneak out. And the truth was what he really wanted to do was stay in bed with him.

None of this was what he’d imagined, coming over to Kyo’s place with that sketchbook. Even acknowledging that his mind had strayed into less than innocent territory regarding Kyo once or twice, he’d never thought far enough ahead to picture waking up in Kyo’s embrace, twining his fingers with Kyo’s while he slept peacefully beside him. It could still be an utterly temporary thing, but Die had a hard enough time believing it was happening at all.

He didn’t fall back asleep fully, but he lazed in bed, watching Kyo sleep, or closing his eyes and just letting himself tuck yet another moment away.

The next time Kyo stirred, stretching cat-like before he looked up and smiled at him, he allowed Die to reach for his phone to check the time.

“It’s after ten,” Die said. “Do you want to keep sleeping?”

Kyo scrunched up his face. “Cozy.”

“Here,” Die said. “Why don’t you stay in bed, and I’ll try to fix us some breakfast?”

Kyo’s eyes opened properly. “You don’t have to do that.” He pushed himself up on one elbow. “No, my kitchen is—Why don’t we just order something? I can get up.”

Die kissed him on the forehead, which had the desired effect of stopping him in his tracks. “I’ll take care of it. You just stay and snooze.” He pushed some messy hair out of Kyo’s face, and slid out from under the covers.

Kyo watched him go, but didn’t try to stop him, and so Die picked up his shirt from the floor and pulled it on as he went out of the bedroom, heading for the kitchen.

The apartment wasn’t actually any less creepy in the light of day, but Die ignored any feeling of unease in favor of getting some coffee started, and snooping through Kyo’s cupboards for anything that looked like breakfast.

There wasn’t much; Die got the feeling that Kyo was usually the type to skip breakfast, or pick something up on the way. There were a couple bananas that weren’t too brown, and half a loaf of bread. That, along with some eggs Die found in the fridge, amounted to what he deemed Good Enough.

He thought about trying to do the whole romantic breakfast in bed thing, but with his luck he’d trip on some unattended paintbrush or something, and it would end up all over the floor, so once he had the eggs cooked, coffee poured, and everything arranged, he went to wake Kyo again and lure him out of bed. As he passed through the living room, his eyes fell yet again on the sketchbook lying forgotten on the floor, and he had to smile.

Sure, he was still curious about what Kyo hadn’t wanted him to see, but in a way he felt grateful to the simple spiral-bound book for finally letting him make the move he’d wanted to make for so long.

He knocked softly as he cracked Kyo’s bedroom door open. “Breakfast’s ready.”

Kyo was miraculously asleep again, one arm resting on the pillow over his head, fingers curled and relaxed, his hair sticking up around his head wildly. Die had to stand there a minute just to bask in the cuteness.

Eventually he made it to the bed, and bent to kiss Kyo’s cheek. “It’s time to get up,” he said, shaking Kyo’s shoulder gently. “There’s coffee.”

Kyo slowly opened one eye. “You made coffee?”

“‘Course I did,” Die replied. “What am I, an animal?”

“Well…”

“Shut up,” Die laughed, shoving at him. “’s’not how _I_ remember last night.”

Kyo broke into a grin. “Maybe I just forgot, and you should remind me.”

The look in his eyes really made Die want to take him up on that, but he pulled away. “I can jog your memory all you want later, but breakfast is getting cold.”

“You cooked, too?” Kyo said, pushing the covers down with obvious reluctance. He was still shirtless, and Die stared, still not used to all that bare, inked skin on display. It was increasingly tempting to just slam him back down on the bed and forget all about breakfast.

Die tried to keep himself on task. “Barely. Just eggs.”

Kyo smiled, just for a second before muttering, “Shit, it’s cold.”

Die looked around, and snatched up a hoodie that was strewn across the top of a bookshelf lined with comics. He offered it to Kyo, who took it, smiling again.

The sweatshirt was large on him, coming down to mid-thigh when he stood up, hiding the boxers Die knew he was wearing from view. It seemed unfair that Kyo could look so good, literally right out of bed, and Die petted at his own hair self-consciously.

He didn’t quite see it coming when Kyo looped warm arms around his waist and rubbed his cheek affectionately against Die’s chest.

“C’mon,” Die said, and kissed the top of Kyo’s head, because it was just so easy. “Breakfast.”

“And coffee,” Kyo agreed, and with one more squeeze around Die’s middle, he finally moved past him and led the way out of the room.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, eaten at a tiny table tucked into the corner of the kitchen. Kyo wasn’t apparently very talkative in the mornings, but he listened as Die told him all about his upcoming gig at the library and what he’d been doing to prepare for it. He seemed interested enough in the concept, though he wrinkled his nose a bit at the mention of English being heavily included in the program.

“It’s not so bad,” Die said. “It’s nice to feel like I have something to offer.”

“You already do,” Kyo said. “You’re a musician, and a music _teacher_.”

“And have you been practicing guitar?”

Kyo looked up from his coffee, wide-eyed. “Come on, seriously? I blew you last night and I don’t even get one day’s reprieve from your hounding?”

Die laughed, but as it trailed off, he was unable to stop himself from asking, “What _was_ last night?”

“What do you mean?”

Die shrugged. “Just… Was it a one-time thing? We’re sitting here having breakfast—well, kind of—but... I don’t know what it meant, and I guess we should talk about it.”

He had meant for the segue to be at least a little smoother, but Kyo didn’t seem too bothered; he regarded Die calmly.

“What do you want it to be?”

It was such an honest, simple question, asked with such patience, that Die felt less pressure than he would have expected. He knew it wasn’t on him to make the decision for both of them, but that Kyo wanted to know where he stood.

There really wasn’t that much consideration required for him to know the answer, either: he wanted it to be much more than a one-time thing, and if he understood Kyo at all, he didn’t think he was the type to do much casually either.

“How about a relationship?” he said, and was relieved by the steadiness of his own voice.

Something around Kyo’s eyes softened. “I would like that.”

Die reached for his hand. “Perfect. We can date.”

“Finally got that boyfriend I was looking for,” Kyo said, grinning crookedly.

Die’s heart stuttered. He remembered perfectly well how that subject had previously arisen in a conversation about how Kyo liked to be so _honest_ about things, and suddenly the notion struck fear to his very core. Was Kyo going to spread it around the school come Monday morning that they were together? Die wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

“What’s wrong?” Kyo asked, squeezing his hand.

“I just don’t know if…” Die hesitated. It sounded bad, but there were just some people he didn’t want finding out, not… not _yet_. How would Shinya react to news like that? “Maybe we should keep it on the down-low for now.”

Kyo’s face fell.

“You know what Hayashi’s like,” Die added.

The sound Kyo made was akin to a growl. “ _Fucking_ Hayashi. It’s not against the rules for teachers to have a relationship, you know!”

Die did know, from experience even, since he’d never run into any problems when he and Shinya were seeing each other, but Kyo’s anger right now was directed at Hayashi-sensei, and Die didn’t want to call attention to himself, so he stayed silent.

“Fuck him,” Kyo went on, dropping Die’s hand to anxiously rake a hand through his bedhead. “Fuck that whole school, honestly. Who are they to say _anything_ about our personal lives?”

Die couldn’t help the frown that came onto his face. “It’s not really that bad, is it?”

Kyo raised an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten how they completely torpedoed our winter events, both yours and mine, and left us to fend for ourselves?”

“It worked out okay.”

“No thanks to the school,” Kyo said bitterly. “This is just the next item on my long list of grudges to hold against them.”

“I guess I just don’t understand,” Die said. “If you really feel that negatively towards the school and everyone there, why do you stay? I know you’ve said you want to be there for the kids, but… is it worth being so unhappy? I’m sure you could still go see Mai-chan’s ballet recitals without working at a school you hate.”

Kyo sighed, perhaps even more tired of this repetitive topic than Die was himself. “It’s not _Maiko_ that I stay for,” he said. “I mean, of course, she’s a fantastic kid, and we’re lucky to get to work with all the Maikos, to support and encourage their creativity, but I’m not just there for them. I’m there for—for the _Freddies_ , who need help that they can’t always ask for and that they don’t always get.”

“But why do you—Did anyone bring you in, make some kind of plan for how to give Freddy extra help?”

Kyo looked at him like his proverbial marbles had taken a spill on the floor and rolled under the fridge. “Like they needed to? I don’t need to be _told_ when one of my kids is struggling.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Die said, embarrassed. “Just, with me, they asked me to meet with him specially.”

“No one said a thing to me,” Kyo said with a shrug. “But why the hell wouldn’t I—at least _try_ to—help him out?” He looked down at his cup. “I know what it’s like to be an outsider, to get frustrated and angry, to have a dad who’s a dick and never around. It fucking sucks.”

“Have you met his parents?”

Kyo shook his head. “But I can tell. One day when he wasn’t listening, I took away the picture he was coloring, meaning to give it back when he’d settled down, but he lost his shit, started screaming at me, ‘ _Don’t trash it, don’t trash it!!'_ I was so shocked that he’d think I’d do something so cruel I just handed it back to him, and had to go sit at my desk so I didn’t lose my temper in front of the class. Who _does_ that to a kid? Trashes his _art_ as a punishment? That’s just fucked up.”

Die hadn’t heard any stories about that kind of thing, but it didn’t surprise him, and from how Freddy talked about his mom, he was sure she wasn’t the one instilling that fear in him.

“Another time,” Kyo said, “he told me his dad was out of town, and I figured, for a business trip, right? But he says, ‘No, on vacation.’ I thought it could be a language barrier thing, but he was _insistent_. His dad went on a two-week vacation abroad, and left Freddy and his mom home by themselves—and right _before_ the New Year’s holiday, when he could have taken the time off and spent it with his _family_ , taken them with him. Just an asshole, I don’t have to meet him to know.”

“Well,” Die said, “I have met him, and you’re right.” He looked at Kyo’s hands, fidgeting restlessly in his lap. He wanted to reach out and take one, just to offer something grounding, but he couldn’t tell if Kyo would pull away. “I really think you’ve helped Freddy,” he said, offering his reassurance verbally instead.

“I try,” Kyo said. “He has good days and bad days, but he’s in the habit of always reporting how he’s doing to me, whether it means he gets a sticker for his chart or not. I find with him it helps to explain _why_. He’s not being difficult on purpose, he just genuinely needs to understand the reasoning behind something.”

Die nodded. He’d come to a similar conclusion in his sessions with Freddy, though he hadn’t necessarily thought of it in such clear terms. Sometimes it meant things took a little longer, but what was the harm in explaining the logic behind an assignment if it helped him move forward?

He wasn’t sure whether Shinya got that that was something Freddy needed. They’d never discussed, it, and while he wanted to believe Shinya was a good teacher and could figure it out, maybe in his class, with so many other kids, it was easier said than done; he couldn’t always be slowing down the whole lesson just to explain to one student why he couldn’t lean out the window or sit on top of his desk.

It still didn’t feel right to Die, how they’d left Kyo out of all the meetings regarding Freddy’s progress.

“Do you ever talk to Shinya about it?” he asked. “How Freddy’s doing in his class, that kind of thing?”

“Not really,” Kyo said, “but again, I don’t need to. Freddy tells me what’s going on, and if he gets in serious trouble I can usually hear it—his classroom’s right down the hall.”

Die wondered what it said about them, that he’d gone through all that questioning and minor resentment over being asked to do things outside of his job description, and yet Kyo did whatever he could without being asked. More, he wondered at other people’s perceptions of them. No one thought Kyo was a pushover, and yet this was far from the first example Die had seen of him going out of his way to do something for someone else, with little or no benefit to himself. Instead they talked behind his back about his attitude, questioned whether his teaching methods were "appropriate." It was hard to believe that so many people could have Kyo so wrong and not even realize it.

“So,” Kyo said suddenly, cutting through Die’s thoughts (judging by the look on his face,completely intentionally), “What do you have going on today? Do you need to get home soon?”

Die shook his head. “Nothing. I was hoping we could spend some time together, if you want?”

Kyo smiled. “I really do.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's pretty short, sorry about that! (If you need more to read this week, feel free to check out the xmas fic I posted earlier! It's not related to this AU, but it's got some fun bits, I think!)  
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all <3!

A new work week started, and Die wasn’t stressed out about it at all. Even the dreariness of a Monday morning spent grading homework could do nothing to dampen his spirits. He hadn’t screwed things up. For once, he hadn’t said all the wrong things to Kyo, and after spending the better part of their Sunday together, Die had kissed him, and said goodbye with Kyo still smiling after him.

It had been pleasant time spent together. They hadn’t had much chance prior to just hang out socially, and Die liked seeing this relaxed, casual side of Kyo, even more than he’d realized he would. They’d watched a movie snuggled up together in Kyo’s bed, pausing once in the middle when they got distracted making out, and they’d laughed until their sides ached. Die was pretty sure the sound of Kyo’s laughter had added years to his life.

He kept coming back to memories of one moment or another, smiling to himself like a dope, and it was only a matter of time until someone called him on it.

Unsurprisingly, it was Toshiya who first noticed the change in his mood, and he didn’t bother beating around the bush. “What are you leaking all this sunshine for? Something goin’ on with you?”

Die hadn’t even been aware that Toshiya was standing there at the staff room coffee station, much less that he’d been watching him intently, and he jumped.

“Sunshine? Who, me? No, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you’re fine,” Toshiya said. “You’re all… Happy. Just last week you were so doom and gloom. Why the change?”

“Oh, you know,” Die said vaguely. “There have been a lot of good things lately.”

“Apparently I _don’t_ know,” Toshiya said with a raised eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”

“Just—well…” Die had to think quickly to come up with something. “Last weekend, Maiko-chan—you know Maiko, right?—had her ballet recital, that always cheers me up.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And _next_ weekend, I’m going to have this kind of performance at the library. Have you heard about this program they’re developing? It’s very cool, and hopefully a lot of kids will—”

“Right,” Toshiya cut him off, unfortunately not as easily sidetracked as Die had hoped. “So, nothing happened _this past_ weekend, though? That would put you in a mood like this?”

In a way, Die was desperate to confess everything, to have someone to share in his joy over Kyo and their new relationship, but even if he hadn’t already convinced Kyo to keep it under wraps, Toshiya was probably the number one wrong person to tell, with his central role in the school staff and his penchant for gossip.

Putting on his best look of innocent confusion, Die shook his head. “No, I don’t think I did much this weekend at all? Just relaxed. What about you?”

“Shinya,” Toshiya said sharply, and Die jumped again.

Shinya had just entered the staff room, heading for the copy machines, but he walked over to them instead with perfectly understandable wariness. “What’s going on over here?”

Toshiya gestured to Die with his coffee cup. “What do you think about him?”

Shinya cocked his head, considering. “He could use some work.”

“No, his mood, his-his _aura_ ,” Toshiya said. “Don’t you think he’s kind of different today? Something strange, right?”

Shinya studying him closely was the last thing Die wanted, and he felt his face flushing as Shinya looked right through him, undoubtedly seeing every secret he’d ever tried to contain.

“You might be right,” Shinya said.

“He’s not!” Die insisted. “There isn’t—I’m _normal_ , honestly.”

“He tried to tell me it was something about a performance at the library that’s got him all excited,” Toshiya said.

“Hmm, he didn’t seem terribly enthusiastic when he spoke to _me_ about it.”

“That was before,” Die said. “Now I’ve—I’ve been prepping everything, and getting hyped, and I’ve got a really good feeling about it!”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Shinya said, but he was still watching him with narrowed eyes, as if collecting data.

“Is that gonna leave you time to get everything ready for the spring culture festival?” Toshiya asked. “Not that I doubt your ability to pull things off after how that whole winter recital went down, but I’m kind of surprised I haven’t heard you start talking about it yet.”

Now that he mentioned it, that kind of surprised Die, too. It was true; with how much he had been struggling to focus on even the most immediate of tasks, he had put basically no thought into the spring festival, and it was startling to say the least to realize how close it was looming.

He latched onto the new topic. “Of course, I’ve hardly got anything planned for it! I knew I was forgetting something important!”

“Well, you’ve still got a little while,” Toshiya said, looking perplexed by his sudden change in attitude. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Die thought about it. It was sweet that Toshiya wanted to get involved, and there was almost certainly something Die could use him for, but he needed to see the big picture before he could start assigning individual duties.

He stood up from his desk, gathering the papers he hadn’t been looking at anyway. “I will definitely let you know,” he told Toshiya. “Once I figure out what needs to be done, you can expect me to recruit you.”

Neither Toshiya nor Shinya moved to stop him from making his escape, and Die found he could breathe a little easier when he got out into the hall. For the first time, he felt he understood how Kyo might prefer to work alone in his classroom, instead of in the staff room with everyone else. There was a lot of pressure in there, and it could be hard to even hear one’s own thoughts.

Climbing the stairs to head for the music room, Die started to be aware of a terrible sinking feeling in his stomach. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped. He wasn’t a good liar, not about this kind of thing. He worried too much about what other people said about him, or even what they _thought_ , and got panicky when faced with confrontation. It was only the first day of the relationship that _he_ had insisted they keep secret, and he’d already made an ass of himself in front of the people he wanted to hide it from the most.

He paused as he reached the second floor landing, and looked down the hall. Could Kyo be in the art room at that very moment, cheerfully telling his whole class how he’d gotten a new boyfriend, confirming any suspicions raised by curious students about who it was? Die hadn’t seen him so far today, and part of him itched to creep down to the end of the hall, just to peek in at him and see what he was doing, maybe remind him gently to not mention anything to the kids…

But what made it even worse was that Die felt sure Kyo had taken his request for discretion seriously, that since he’d asked him to keep it quiet, he would. Even if Die’s reasons for such a request were less than noble, Kyo wouldn’t willfully betray his trust.

Die continued on up the stairs, that sinking feeling only growing the higher he climbed. He shouldn’t doubt Kyo, when _he_ was the one who was so keen on hiding things, deceiving everyone around them.

At any rate, it wasn’t appropriate for Die to even consider interrupting one of Kyo’s classes for purely personal reasons. Whatever they’d agreed about their relationship, whether or not it was at Die’s morally questionable insistence, it would be improper and unprofessional to act any differently when they were working together.

He tried to put any paranoia out of his mind as he walked up to the familiar homeground of the music room. Toshiya was just being a weirdo, picking up on his good mood. There was nothing else to give away what he’d been up to with Kyo, and even if there _was_ , it wasn’t technically against any rules for them to see each other. The only consequences Die was really worried about were just the laws of the universe, which never seemed to let him have and keep something he wanted.

And maybe Shinya. Die still didn’t want Shinya to find out, although his reasoning for that was sort of complicated even to his own mind. It was partly petty vengeance and partly trepidation over Shinya’s unspoken (or hell, spoken, too) judgment; it was partly something from within, and partly rooted in fear of how others saw him. That, he knew, was ludicrous. Even such a thought process seemed to suggest he was _ashamed_ of Kyo, which couldn’t have been further from the truth.

No, Die was proud of Kyo, admired him. He would be thrilled to present Kyo as his boyfriend, to show him off, to Shinya with his doubts, Hayashi-sensei with his undisguised bias, all the other teachers who looked down their noses at Kyo. Who would surely look down on Die, too, if they knew of their relationship. Who would very likely ostracize Die completely from the society he worked so hard to be part of, just based on their association.

Die reached his classroom and stood in the doorway too long. It wouldn’t be a problem. As long as no one ever found out, it wouldn’t be a problem at all.

Other things required his attention. The one worthwhile thing to come out of the awkwardness with Toshiya in the staff room had been the reminder to get some work done on the spring culture festival. It was a couple months away, but there was no reason for Die to be left scrambling to put everything together at the last minute, like last time.

There was really no way to be sure that things would be different from the winter at all. The spring festival was still on the schedule as of right now, and it was a regular, large-enough scale event that Die wanted to believe it wouldn't end up on the chopping block, but he’d been hurt before; his faith had been shaken, just as he hadn’t wanted for the kids. He needed to be prepared to have it all ripped away again.

Die went to his desk and took out a few items: the binder full of music his kids were currently working on, his schedule book, and, after a moment’s thought, the record of donations he currently had in the music program’s fund. That was where this season differed from the winter recital fiasco. Even if something went wrong, he had a built-in backup plan, and as long as he budgeted carefully, he wouldn’t need to rely on support from the school at all.

Of course, it would still be nice if he didn’t have to build the event from the ground up all on his own again, but…

Die paused, thinking. Would Kyo be interested in another collaboration? They’d worked well together last time, and maybe as a united force from the get-go, they could stand stronger against any attacks on the event, soften the blow somewhat if they did end up getting canceled again. In a strange way, Die didn’t even want to consider making plans for the spring cultural festival _without_ it being in partnership with Kyo.

He stood up from his desk, then paused again. Was this feeling only because of his and Kyo’s new romantic involvement? It was natural that he’d want him at his side now that they were dating, but would it be crossing some boundary to ask for another collaboration? Maybe Kyo would feel pressured to accept based on their personal relationship. Yet again, Die had to ponder whether his professionalism was being affected.

On the other hand, Die knew his desire to work with Kyo had nothing to do with anything untoward; he’d just felt they’d made a good team before, and surely _asking_ if he wanted to collaborate wasn’t out of line. It might be premature to start planning their own festival when no one had canceled any spring events yet, but better safe than sorry, no harm in asking, right?

Die sat down again, looking down at the materials lined up on his desk, and a little confused by the way his own mind was trying to spin everything. With a resolve that he hoped he couldn’t break himself, he decided to make his own plans for the spring festival, and if he still felt it was the right thing to do tomorrow, he could talk to Kyo about teaming up then.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I'm going to try to switch to updating on Mondays, so expect me then next week!  
> Hope everyone's staying as safe as possible in the New Year <3

It wasn’t possible for Die to go on avoiding Shinya. Not that he was trying to, but even if he’d wanted to it couldn’t have happened, because Shinya was Freddy’s regular teacher, and also Die relied on him to play piano for his lower grade classes. Of all the faculty at the school, Shinya was the one Die couldn’t help but see, and the one who made him want to turn tail and run in the opposite direction.

Die tried to tamp down on these anxious feelings, to remind himself that he didn’t have some horrible, guilty secret that he needed to keep hidden. The issue was less that it was something shameful, and more that Shinya was too perceptive to believe for a minute that there wasn’t something going on with Die. He just knew him too well to not be suspicious about his behavior, and much as Die would have loved to just _act normal_ , it didn’t seem to be something entirely within his control.

He tried to keep the interaction brief when he went to pick up Freddy for his tutoring session, but he was sure he still overcompensated by talking a little too fast, smiling a little too loudly. He was usually better at concealing his less agreeable feelings than this.

It seemed like even Freddy noticed something was amiss as he was watching him curiously while they walked to their usual classroom. Die did his best to ignore his scrutinizing six-year-old gaze and got them set up as he would any other day.

“How was your weekend?” he asked, hoping to engage him in conversation to take attention off himself.

It didn’t work, as Freddy replied with, “Why is your face pink like that?”

“It’s not,” Die said quickly, slapping a hand on his own overly warm cheek.

“You sick?” Freddy asked, managing to sound both concerned and morbidly intrigued.

“No, I’m fine,” Die said, shaking his head. He cleared his throat. “I think I just—I was out in the sun.”

Freddy looked doubtfully out the window at the dreary February sky.

“Anyway!” Die nearly shouted. “Today I wanted to talk about _rules_. Why we have them, what might happen if they’re broken, and why sometimes they need to change…”

Freddy listened, his interest clearly growing as they got deeper into it.

Die had gotten the idea to work on details of this subject from what Kyo had said, that Freddy did better when he could understand the reasoning behind something. Once it had occurred to him that Shinya might not have the opportunity to focus on the subject during class, Die figured it wouldn’t hurt to dedicate some time to it in their sessions. It really seemed to be beneficial; Die could see Freddy accepting each explanation as they broke it down, going through the bulk of the rules Die thought he would most commonly encounter at school, one by one.

In addition, he helped Freddy come up with some appropriately respectful phrasing for certain questions in Japanese, so he would be able to ask about whatever he still didn’t understand.

“And if you don’t have an opportunity in the moment to ask questions,” Die said, “because realistically there isn’t always time, or someone might not have the answers, you can just save it and ask me next time we meet like this.”

Freddy nodded agreeably. “Sometimes questions have to wait.” After a minute he added, “Kyo-sensei always lets me ask though, even if it hafta wait.”

Die was pretty sure he hadn't mentioned Kyo himself, but it only made sense that Freddy would bring him up when they were working on this subject, especially if he offered more opportunities to ask questions than the average adult (which Die was _sure_ he did). “He’s nice like that,” Die said.

“Do you ask him questions too?” Freddy said with great interest. “I think he knows! Kyo-sensei knows a _lot_ , and knows magic, and plays guitar, like you!”

Die didn’t know where to start with that, and ended up going with, “He knows magic?”

Freddy looked shocked that Die didn’t know this already. “He can _do_! I saw it, it was real, and he—well, my dad told me, magic _not real_ , but I _saw_ it, so that’s not true!”

Hmm, that was probably going to get Kyo in trouble with Freddy’s father sooner or later, but from how Kyo had talked about him, Die was fairly sure he wouldn’t care.

“I’ve never seen him do magic,” Die admitted. “I’ll have to ask him to show me.”

Freddy agreed, once again emphatically insisting that Kyo would do it if he asked, and since Die had already been thinking about asking Kyo something else, he made another slippery escape from Shinya when he returned Freddy to class, and then stopped by the art room.

He approached slowly because he could hear from outside that there was a class in session, and while he had no desire to interrupt, he had wanted for a while now to see what one of Kyo’s classes was like.

The kids—fifth graders, Maiko’s class—were grouped around tables, materials already in front of them, as Kyo moved freely around the room between the tables, keeping a watchful eye to see that no one started the project before instructed to do so.

"Now I don't want to hear any complaints about what colors we got. If you want to, you can switch with someone else at your table—as long as they _agree_.” He shot a pointed look at one of the boys seated near him, and the rest of his group snickered. “Remember that you won’t get new clay if you lose what you have _or_ if you mash it together in a big ball and ruin it.”

As he reached the front of the room he turned, and, catching sight of Die in the doorway, his face lit up. He waved him in. “Hey everyone, look who’s here! Say good morning!”

“Good morning, Andou-sensei,” the class said obediently, and then proceeded to mutter excitedly amongst themselves, entirely distracted from their lesson. Maiko shot him a wide, knowing grin and waved.

“Hey kids,” Die said, keeping close to the edge of the room. He made his way to Kyo, lowering his voice to apologize. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I—I can come back later, honestly.”

Kyo just shook his head, still smiling. “We don’t mind having you here! Want to join in today’s lesson?” He gestured for Die to take a seat at his own desk at the front of the room, and brought over some extra clay. “I’ll even let you choose your own colors,” he said with a conspiratorial wink.

Die meant to protest, to insist that he didn’t want to cause Kyo any inconvenience, but Kyo had already moved on, turned back to the rest of the class to continue his explanation of their project.

“Now, as always, I’m going to walk you through the steps to make this.” He held up the example, but Die couldn’t quite see what it was from his angle. “Is yours going to look exactly like mine?”

“No!” the class chorused.

“And that’s…”

“Okay!”

“Exactly,” Kyo said. “This is your first time making it, and it’s natural for it to come out a little different from my example. So let’s not give up and say we _can’t_.”

Die picked his colors of clay as he listened, though he wasn’t quite sure what he would do with them. He was kind of more interested in just watching Kyo and how he talked to his students than in learning how to make anything.

“If you don’t want to make what I’m teaching you," Kyo continued, “that’s _fine_. You all know I’d never stop you from taking your creativity into your own hands. But, if you’re making it hard for the people who _do_ want to learn, we’ll have a problem. Be respectful of your neighbors, and don’t talk so much they miss the next step.”

It was clear from the kids’ responses that this was more or less Kyo’s standard spiel, and yet none of them seemed to be tuning him out or goofing off. Die couldn’t tell if it was because they wee intimidated or just well-behaved, but he wished he could get his own classes to be as chill as this.

He idly worked the colorful clay between his hands as he watched Kyo demonstrate how to shape it, his own hands moving elegantly as he rolled and flattened it, smoothed it with strong but delicate fingers. Kyo never did more than glance back at Die over his shoulder, just checking on him, while his focus stayed on his class and on the lesson. He answered questions patiently, often going over to one student or another’s table to guide them through a confusing portion up-close.

Die really couldn’t take his eyes off him, off the effortless dexterity of his hands, the openness of his expression that Die never saw him show around other adults. The way Kyo spoke to the kids—kindly, reasonably, never with condescension—had Die’s heart feeling like it was beating its wings against its cage, trying to get out. He never raised his voice, never shamed any of his students, even when he did need to pull one boy aside for a minor behavior issue. Die was convinced within thirty minutes that Kyo was one of the best teachers in the school if not the whole country, and he understood fully Kyo’s repeated protests that he couldn’t leave the school because he wanted to be there for the _kids_.

On a more unsettling note, Die was starting to become aware of how _attracted_ to Kyo he was, seeing him like this. He’d retained none of the instructions for he clay project—in fact, he still didn’t know what they were supposed to be making—because he’d been utterly fascinated by Kyo’s _hands_ and how they moved, rather than what they were actually _doing_.

Kyo’s sleeves were rolled up, his tattooed forearms bare but for some paint smudges, apparently unrelated to what he was doing with the clay, and he looked casual, _messy_ —yet still in perfect control. The effect was highly distracting to Die.

He wasn’t super aware of how much time was passing, when all at once Kyo was instructing the class to clean up, warning them against leaving clay on their desks or the floor, and the room was bustling and confused as people moved around, setting their finished projects near the window to dry, or bringing them over to proudly show Kyo their work (Maiko, Die noticed, had sculpted her own version of the Sorting Hat from Harry Potter), and then going out to wash their hands and coming back to wipe down their tables. The only person who wasn’t moving was Die, still sitting in Kyo’s seat at the front of the room, his clay balled into a marbled sphere between his palms.

In time, the children stood and bowed, thanking Kyo for the class, and went off with their regular teacher back to their classroom.

Once they were gone, Kyo came sauntering over to Die, leaning one hip against his desk. “So, what’d you end up making?”

“Um.” Die held up the ball. “A planet? Maybe?”

Kyo gave it an appraising look. “I’ve seen worse.”

Die laughed and set the clay down gingerly on the desk. “Not my medium, I guess.”

“You heard what I told the kids, right? These things take practice.” Straightening up, Kyo said, “Was there something you needed? Sorry, I didn’t really get to ask before…”

“Oh, no, I… Well, I was wondering if you had any plans regarding the spring culture festival.”

Kyo looked surprised for a moment, then shook his head. “Not particularly. Thought I’d have some classes do something on the theme of ‘rebirth.’”

That sounded fairly traditional, but in Kyo’s hands, potentially unsettling, and Die decided not to get into it.

Kyo took a step closer until he was looming over him, smirking. “Is that the _real_ reason you came by my class?”

Die swallowed, looking up at him. “It—it is, I waned to find out if you’d like to work together again, since we don’t necessarily—and it turned out well last time.”

“And that’s all? Just a simple little question about… the culture festival?” Kyo’s voice had dropped so low that Die found himself holding his breath just to be sure he’d hear him.

He was also having trouble forming a response. Initially, he _had_ come to Kyo’s class with a specific purpose, but the way Kyo looked (plus the way Kyo was looking _at_ him) made it hard for him to think about his purely professional intentions.

It was troubling to him how much he wanted to sweep everything off the desk and fuck Kyo right there in the art room. He’d never had those kind of thoughts at school before and it did not feel right at all, but…

“I also came to ask you to show me how you can do magic,” he blurted out.

Kyo froze, blinked once. “I’m sorry?”

“I—I heard that you can do magic, so I came by to ask to see some,” Die said, fully aware of how ludicrous it must sound.

“Huh. Didn’t I show you before?” Kyo said, looking thoughtful. “In the shower, the other night.”

Die choked on his air, looked around frantically as if someone might’ve overheard.

Kyo just snickered. “I can show you some kid-friendly magic too, though, if you want,” he said, scratching at some paint that had dried on the outside of his wrist. “This is, what, for your library gig?”

Die was staring at Kyo’s hands again. “Uh. Yeah, sure. No, I mean, it was just something… I heard.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. If I’m honest, I guess I kind of thought it would be an excuse to come and see you.”

“You know you don’t need one,” Kyo said, tilting his head. “It’s never a bother to me for you to stop by.” One of his hands lingered on the desktop, as if it might reach for Die’s, but then it pulled back and he stepped away from the desk. “As long as you don’t mind me prepping for my next class while we talk.”

“No, of course, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your work,” Die said, though he was ashamed to privately acknowledge just how much he _did_ want to keep Kyo from his work, how he wanted to back him right up against the blackboard and kiss him until he was breathless and clawing at Die’s back, begging for more, but this was neither the time nor place for that, and Die wasn’t so far gone as to have lost sight of such a fact.

Kyo went about taking out more clay for his next class, sorting the colors before dividing it into small, equal amounts for each student. “Are you really worrying about the spring culture festival already?” he asked.

“I just want to make sure we’re prepared,” Die said. He didn’t necessarily want to bring up the previous season’s cancellations and get Kyo upset, but he was pretty sure his point still got across.

“I haven’t heard anything,” Kyo said. He sat on one of the student tables as he worked, his eyes on the clay he was dividing. “’Course that doesn’t mean we won’t get the rug pulled out from under us when we’re not expecting it.”

“Right,” Die said. “Which is why I thought we could team up in advance, just so we aren’t caught unprepared again." He added hastily, "But only if you’d like to."

Kyo glanced up at him. “It doesn’t make all that much difference to me. I’d have my classes doing the same projects either way. But since I’d obviously prefer they have a chance to display their work, yeah, I’m in. What did you have in mind?”

Die stood up from his seat and came around the desk, leaning on it so he was less tempted to step right up between Kyo’s casually spread legs. “I’m going to start putting it out there for any kids to sign up for small group acts—maybe you could do the same, in case any of your students want to present an extra project, in addition to class work?”

Kyo nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’ll start planning layouts, too, for the displays…”

Die had gone back to staring at his hands, and asked suddenly, “Do you want me to help with that?”

Kyo gave him an odd sort of look, but as Die gestured to the clay he was holding, he passed over a hunk of it. “Knock yourself out.” He held up a ball of clay he was making just then to demonstrate the proper size, and returned his attention to his own work. “It probably wouldn’t hurt to do some mock-ups for poster and ticket designs, just to be on the safe side…”

Die couldn’t help but be amazed at how readily Kyo accepted, how easily he started planning their emergency backup event, just at Die’s simple proposal. It was so different from how he’d reacted the first time Die had asked him for help.

They went on for a while, just going over the steps they’d take to prepare, just as a precaution, and when all the clay was divvied up, Kyo looked up at the clock on the wall.

“My next class should be coming in pretty soon.”

“Can I just ask, how is it that you’re covered in paint, when you’re teaching clay today?” Die said, reaching to take Kyo’s wrist so he could indicate the smears of color on his arm.

“Clay is for fifth-graders,” Kyo answered, though he didn’t pull away. “I had a class of first-graders earlier this morning and we were doing sponge painting.”

Die ran his hand down the collar of Kyo’s shirt, also flecked with paint. “And you don’t have an apron or something you could wear, to keep you from getting all messy?”

Kyo pouted a little, leaned in to murmur, “You don’t like me all messy?”

Die had walked right into that one, but it still made him feel almost dizzy. He didn’t think he’d survive if Kyo was always going to talk to him like this, even at school.

“Anyway, you should go,” Kyo said abruptly, hopping down from his perch on the table. “I’ve gotta finish getting ready for my class.” He smiled, and rested a hand on Die's chest without pushing him away. “I’ll see you later.”

Die nodded and stepped back, very aware that it was for the best that he leave now before he embarrassed himself. Still, he wanted to make some plan to see Kyo again, more than just “see you later.” He had yet to take Kyo on a proper _date_ , and he wanted to. Kyo deserved more than impulsive intimacy in his own apartment and Sunday movies in bed—not that that wasn’t all very nice and enjoyable, but Die wanted to take him out somewhere nice, somewhere with a romantic atmosphere.

He hovered at the doorway, but before he could open his mouth, Kyo beat him to it.

“Do you wanna go to Mac later?”

That wasn’t quite what Die had had in mind. “McDonald’s?”

“Yeah,” Kyo said. “We could go get burgers after school, what do you think?”

Maybe it had none of the romantic atmosphere that Die had been hoping for, but he kind of felt like he’d enjoy going anywhere with Kyo. “I have a couple lessons after school, but maybe dinner?” he said.

“It’s a date,” Kyo said with a grin.

And so it would be, their first date.


	23. Chapter 23

Die could have thought things through better. Under normal circumstances, he was definitely more the type to go through the drive-thru, pick up his food, and take it to eat in the comfort of his own home, and maybe if he hadn’t been so bewitched by Kyo’s easy smile and his damn paint-smudged hands, he would have had the presence of mind to suggest such a course of action today.

McDonald’s was far from deserted, and Die could feel his anxiety rising before they even sat down at a table. No one was paying them any mind, but there were teenagers hanging around, throwing french fries at one another, families with children coming and going, and it seemed to him all at once that this was the worst of all the places they could have gone.

Kyo didn’t appear to be having any sort of similar crisis. He was in as good a mood as Die had ever seen him, humming to himself, laughing openly, all for something as mundane as a trip to get fast-food burgers. Die couldn’t really understand it, but it warmed his heart to see him that way, almost enough to keep his more anxious thoughts at bay.

He chose a table in the corner, away from the windows and not immediately visible to people first coming in. There wasn’t a lot of conscious thought put into that choice; he just thought they’d be more comfortable with a little privacy. He only realized how it looked when he caught sight of Kyo’s quizzical expression as he brought over their tray of food and sat down.

“I thought it’d be nice to sit out of the way,” Die explained, but he could tell Kyo wasn’t convinced.

“Out of the way, or out of sight?”

This was not an optimal start to their first date. Okay, maybe Die would have chosen somewhere a little more upscale anyway, but they hadn’t been there ten minutes, and already Kyo clearly felt like Die was trying to hide him.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be seen with you,” Die said. He looked past Kyo's shoulder at a family with three kids that was standing waiting for their order. “I just don’t want to be seen by _them_.”

Kyo turned to look and huffed out a laugh. “Children? We don’t even _know_ those kids.”

“But they all know each other!” Die said, unhappily aware of how paranoid it sounded. “I’m—I’m sorry, I guess I’m just a little… self-conscious, somewhere like this.”

“What are you afraid is gonna happen?” Kyo asked, picking up a french fry. “Even if some kids from our school _do_ see us, there’s nothing inappropriate about us eating burgers together, is there?”

“No, it’s not—Whether it’s appropriate or not doesn’t really have that much to do with it,” Die said. "It's more that, one kid sees us, he tells his friends, who tell _their_ friends, and it leads to all this speculation. You just _know_ it’ll end up getting back to—someone we don’t want to hear.”

Kyo was still frowning down at his food, and Die just wished he could make him understand.

Already he felt like he was under so much pressure, trying to keep the relationship from getting out. He’d known it would be difficult to keep the wool pulled over Shinya’s eyes, but even earlier that afternoon when he’d been there to play piano for Die’s class, he’d been inquisitive in all the ways Die had hoped to avoid.

“We haven’t had much chance to talk lately, but I wanted to tell you, I really was pleased to hear that you’re feeling better about the library program,” he’d said, which sounded like an innocent enough start to a conversation. “After what you’d said about it before, I was feeling bad, like maybe you’d been coerced into it, at my recommendation.”

“No, not at all,” Die had been quick to say. “Don’t even worry about it.”

“And you’re not taking on too much? I admit, I’d forgotten that the spring culture festival was coming up.”

Die shook his head. “I still have plenty of time to get all that ready. The library gig is only twice a month, it shouldn’t take too much out of me.”

“Still, if there’s anything I can help with, regarding the festival…” Shinya had paused, not quite looking at Die as he then tacked on, “Or are you planning on joining forces with Kyo again?”

Die still didn’t know exactly how he’d reacted to that, but he was sure it hadn’t been smooth. It felt like he’d been caught, like Shinya had figured everything out in a mere matter of days, despite Die’s attempts to give nothing away, and so he hedged, “Yeah, we might work together, haven’t really decided yet,” which was mostly true anyway, so it wasn’t like he was lying _that_ much.

“You did make a good team last time,” Shinya said.

Again, Die felt like he should deny it. “Yeah? I don’t know, I guess we were good, you know, okay.”

"I haven't seen him as much since the new year, have you?"

"Not... as much. I mean, we see each other. We _have_ seen each other, around, here and there, school." Die cleared his throat. "Sometimes."

Shinya was definitely onto him by the look he gave him then, but all he said was, “We should have dinner this week, we can talk about it. The spring culture festival.”

It had seemed in a way like a challenge, like Shinya was _daring_ him to say no, which was probably (definitely) Die reading into it too much, but he’d felt like there was no way to turn him down. “Yeah, good idea!” he’d said, looking back at Shinya unflinchingly.

“Great. What day works well for you?”

“Not, uh… Any day except today,” Die had said, luckily remembering his plans with Kyo. “I have. Lessons and everything after school.”

So they’d agreed to meet for dinner on Thursday evening, and Die felt painfully conscious of the time between now and then, in which something could happen or be revealed, how he might end up cornered in some restaurant with Shinya _grilling_ him, finding out why he was acting so squirrelly. He only had two days to build up his resistance to such a high-stress situation.

But meanwhile, as he was eating in silence, Kyo’s good mood had all but vanished, and Die knew perfectly well that it was his doing. It was supposed to be their first date and he was making a real mess of things.

He reached for Kyo’s hand across the table and gave it a quick squeeze, before pulling back to pick up his burger with both hands. He didn’t dart his eyes around the dining area to check if anyone had seen, and he hoped Kyo would realize how much effort that took, maybe give him some credit for it.

Kyo sighed. “It seems to me,” he said, dropping his voice, “this is the _least_ romantic place we could be seen together. If you’re not ready to be _out_ at all, that’s one thing, but if it’s about the kids, the principal, if it’s about _me_ …”

“No,” Die said, barely swallowing his mouthful of food in his urgency to cut off that line of thinking. “It’s not about you, I swear, I’m just. Self-conscious, like I said.”

Kyo gave him another skeptical look. “You work at an elementary school. You can’t live in fear of the kids.”

“You don’t know what my students are like,” Die said, shaking his head.

“Don’t I?”

“No, it’s… They were so _invested_ in what was going on between me and Shinya,” Die said. “Almost to the point of obsession, really. Remember, even _you_ heard the rumors about us?”

Kyo nodded, frowning. “ _Rumors_. Not like anyone ever even really knew for sure you were together.”

“They still wanted to _ask_ about it all the time during class, looking for clues, making these theories—”

“And naturally, you never gave them an honest answer.”

Die let out a disbelieving laugh. “It—It’s my private life!”

“But you never thought they might lose interest, stop coming up with theories and asking questions, if you just told them, ‘oh yeah, we’ve been seeing each other’?”

Die didn’t know what to say. It seemed like a completely bonkers suggestion, but at the same time, one he’d never even considered, so how could he know if it would have worked?

“I’m just saying,” Kyo went on, “you don’t owe your students—or anyone—details of your dating habits, but the other teachers…” He bit his lip, started again, “Take Kaoru. I doubt he has to deal with so many rumors about his love life. You either say, flat-out, 'This is not something I’m going to discuss with you,' or you answer their question, simply, one time—‘ _We went out, but we’re not together anymore_ ’—which takes the fun and mystery out of it. Either way, it shuts it down, on your terms.”

“It’s not that simple!” Die said indignantly. “You can’t use Kaoru as an example, it’s not the same at all, that’s—He’s married, he’s not—”

“Gay?” Kyo finished for him. He looked at Die, not angrily, but with a touch of sadness. “You want to teach the kids that an attraction to men is something to be ashamed of?”

This conversation had taken a much more serious turn than anything Die might have hoped for from their casual McDonald’s date. “Of course I don’t,” he said quietly.

“Like I said, coming out, staying out, is a personal decision, and I would never try to rush you into something if you’re not ready,” Kyo said. “I can respect that without going back into the closet myself, but I kind of need to know what you’re okay with…”

Die shook his head. “It’s not about that,” he said, as he kept trying to say about everything, even if it was a little bit about all of it. “In _general_ , I’m—I don’t care. But the kids, they never quit! It doesn’t matter if we’re not doing anything inappropriate, or if being out with a man is or isn’t—I mean, they might very well come up to me on this Friday, having seen me out to dinner with Shinya the night before and be all full of questions—and we haven’t been romantically involved in—a good long while!”

Kyo didn’t say anything then. He looked at Die for a long moment, then back down at his tray, the few remaining fries there. He scooted his napkin and trash around, lining them up on the tray in an orderly fashion, but didn’t speak.

Die found it difficult to read his silence, if he’d finally gotten through to him, or only managed to piss him off more. Asking seemed like the wrong move. He just watched him for a time, taking in the details of him. He’d finally washed the paint off his hands and arms, but there were still flecks of it on his shirt, and Die wanted to smile at the sight, but didn’t feel like he was allowed. How had he messed this up so badly?

“Hey,” he said, and waited for Kyo to meet his gaze. “Maybe we can do something together this weekend instead, to make up for—We could go somewhere I could be a little less self-conscious, not so distracted. Would that be okay?”

Kyo still didn’t answer right away, but he looked like he might be considering it, and god, Die just hoped he wasn’t deciding this whole thing had been a mistake and trying to figure out how to politely dump his ass right there at Mac.

He watched as Kyo stood up and collected all the trash from their meal, then took it to throw it away, and came back to stand by the table, clearly waiting for Die. He got up in such a hurry he knocked his knee against the table’s edge, but he didn’t spend a second dwelling on it.

“Sure, we could do that,” Kyo said, stepping close so he was right in Die’s space. “I know just where we can go, too.” He looked up at him, but it was still tricky to read his expression. “ Why don’t you come with me to this week’s art class?”

“Oh!” Die hadn’t been expecting that, and combined with the close, casual way Kyo was within reach but not quite touching him, it made him strangely nervous. “You mean, the one you… model for?”

“It’ll be fun,” Kyo said. “And definitely no kids there for you to worry about.”

“But if you’re, um, working, then I don’t see—I wouldn’t want to distract you or anything.”

“You won’t,” Kyo said. “I think maybe you’d enjoy it, more than you realize.”

Something in Die still felt he needed to find an excuse for why they couldn’t go. “But it’s… Friday, right? I’d hate for us to have to cancel another guitar lesson..”

“No problem. We can go to the later class, and if you can drive us, we won’t even have to worry about rushing across town.” Kyo reached out to let his hands rest on Die’s sides, the touch intimate, but not overtly romantic. “We could get dinner after, come back to my place… It could be nice.”

Further protestations hovered on Die’s lips—how he had his gig at the library this weekend and didn’t want to add more to his schedule, how he’d probably be tired and no fun after a long day of teaching on Friday—but Kyo was looking up at him patiently, and, it seemed, hopefully, and Die had no _actual_ reason to turn him down.

“Okay, yeah,” he said, taking a deep breath that Kyo surely felt where his hands were still on him. “Art class. Let’s try it.”

Kyo seemed pleased. “Perfect. I really think you’ll have a good time.”

Die nodded along, unable to pinpoint why exactly the idea made him anxious.

They left the McDonald’s without seeing anyone they recognized, and as Die drove Kyo home, the atmosphere between them returned to its usual, comfortable state. Without the pressure of other people watching and around them, Die was able to talk and laugh with Kyo like it was the easiest thing in the world, and after dropping him off with a goodnight kiss, Die found himself wishing they could just always spend time together _alone_. They were so good together like that, without interference. Was it so unreasonable to want to hold onto that privacy?


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, "I'm gonna switch to Monday updates!" I say and then vanish and don't post at all for weeks, yikes sorry.  
> I hope this chapter makes up for it a bit! It's... long? I've been working on it. Here it is.  
> I'm not gonna try to make any claims about when the next update will be, because life is chaotic right now and I've learned my lesson, but I'm pretty sure it won't be as delayed as this one. My apologies again, and thank you for being patient, if you're still here!! Love~!  
> (ps some us politics mentioned here are maybe a little outdated now because this fic has taken me so long to write/post haaa)

For the most part, school was no different than it had always been. Paranoid as Die felt, his students didn’t have any information that he hadn’t given them, and even his fifth-graders didn’t come at him with questions about his visit to Kyo’s class.

It was enough to make Die reflect on his McDonald’s date with Kyo many times in just a couple short days. He already knew he’d been wrong to make such a fuss, but he was reminded of it over and over, and he was determined to have a good attitude at Kyo’s art class, to really demonstrate how sorry he was, how committed to change.

Unfortunately that determination didn’t quite work its way through to helping him face his dinner with Shinya, which came first. He fully expected it to be some kind of interrogation, and focused only on steeling himself against uncomfortable questions, on equivocating without actually _lying_ (because Shinya could always catch that, he knew). He was at a loss when Shinya sat down and really, honestly wanted to talk about the spring culture festival.

“I was thinking it would be easy enough for me to man the ticket table again,” he said, pulling out a small notebook and pen, ready to start jotting things down. “Are you planning on accepting more donations?”

“I… hadn’t given that aspect of it much thought,” Die admitted. “I guess it wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

Shinya nodded. “And did you like the tickets I had made before? We can use the same printers.”

“I did like them, but,” Die said, and paused. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, especially when Shinya’s ideas were _good_ , and he really might end up needing his help. But… “You know, the school should still be putting the festival on, officially. We don’t have to come up with all this.”

“I hope you’re right,” Shinya said. “But it really isn’t any extra trouble for me, and I’d rather know that we have a contingency plan in order.”

It was funny to Die how committed Shinya was, when it wasn’t even his department. He supposed he should just be moved that Shinya saw them as part of the same team.

Shinya had a good mind for this kind of thing, and they went on discussing it as they ate. They were able to improve and expand upon some of what they’d come up with in the winter, as Shinya had his own extensive network of businesses and individuals he seemed confident could get him discounts on various equipment and services.

“We could even get professionally-made concessions, see if businesses would donate in exchange for the advertisement, then sell them for a marked-up price,” he said. “Have you been to that little bakery down next to the new boba place? The owner is a friend of mine, I’m sure he’d give us a deal on a bulk purchase…”

Die didn’t feel he could do anything but agree. He’d kind of liked the voluntary feature of what they’d done before, the all-hands-on-deck vibe that had moved even Kaoru to contribute his culinary skills, but Shinya seemed to know so much about what he was saying, and he had this quiet way of taking charge that made it difficult to argue with him.

Besides, Die really did appreciate the help. It was so generous, it almost seemed funny how Die had been reluctant to ask for Shinya’s help with the winter recital; maybe they could have been even more successful.

Now everything seemed to be rolling along smoothly—until the very end of their meal, when Shinya said, “I’m so glad you’re letting me help this time instead of trying to work with Kyo.”

He was tucking the notes he’d been taking into his bag, not looking at Die, which was probably for the best since Die needed a minute to respond.

“What do you mean?” he asked, first of all.

Shinya shrugged. “I just know what a stressful experience all of that was.”

“Not because of Kyo,” Die said. “And I haven’t decided that I’m _not_ teaming up with him this time. You even said that we worked well together.”

“Well, sure,” Shinya said, “but it didn’t make things much easier on you, did it? I told you then, and it’s still true, it’s all very noble for you to put other people first, but no one would think less of you if you do what’s in your best interest now and then.”

“I never could have pulled it off without him,” Die said firmly. “I really thought you were over whatever you had against him,” he added, a bit saddened to see that wasn’t the case.

“It’s nothing against him,” Shinya said. “You seem upset, but I didn’t mean any offense. I only meant, in the most basic of senses, Kyo complicates things. I didn’t think we were in denial about that.”

Die paused again before trying to respond. He didn’t think he was in denial either, but even if Kyo _did_ complicate things, Die _liked_ that about him; his complications were nothing Die would hold against him. He felt simultaneously validated for his decision to not share news of his relationship with Shinya, and tempted to shout it at him right now, just to show him how wrong he was.

Or was the whole thing a test? Supposing Shinya already had his suspicions about Die and Kyo, he might have been saying these things to _goad_ some confession out of him.

Die took a breath and fixed Shinya with a level gaze. “Kyo and I,” he said, his voice clear and steady, “are—going to be working together for the spring culture festival. But that doesn’t mean I’m rejecting your help. It just means we’d better factor him into any plans and decisions we make.”

Shinya looked a bit shocked, no doubt displeased at having been retroactively tricked into helping Kyo, but too polite to refuse. He didn’t say anything else about it, and they went to the front of the restaurant to pay for their dinner.

Die couldn’t understand it. After everything, how hard they’d all worked as a team, how could Shinya still have this bias against Kyo? Even if they hadn’t worked together closely, Die had thought—at least _hoped_ —that Shinya’s feelings about Kyo had really changed. What was it gonna take for everyone else to see Kyo’s value?

At the same time, he knew there was something hypocritical in his thinking. Much as he wanted Shinya to know and appreciate Kyo, Die still hadn’t told him the truth, and he didn’t know when he would. In a way, this incident had only served to reinforce his fear of judgment, strengthened his conviction to keep the relationship secret. He wished he could ask someone’s advice, but Shinya and Kyo were the two people he’d have liked to ask about it most.

The one small mercy was that none of his students seemed to have caught on to anything going on. His advanced guitar class on Friday morning passed, almost surprisingly, with no new gossip at all, and he hoped his relief didn’t show too much.

He was thinking he might really get through this day and make it to Kyo’s guitar lesson and their date afterwards without incident, when just as he was preparing to go out and pick up lunch, he encountered an unusually flustered Kaoru in the staff room, and stopped in the middle of putting on his coat to ask what was the matter.

Naturally, Kaoru shook his head, tried to wave him off, but it was even less convincing than usual.

Die stood unmoving, concerned. Kaoru rarely let any emotion show other than perhaps mild irritation or faint disapproval, and to see him looking stressed and worried, messing with his phone and shifting restlessly in his chair, had Die on edge too. He couldn’t just let it go.

“Is there something I can do to help?” he asked. “Kaoru, seriously, I’m offering.”

Still Kaoru hesitated before saying, “I’m the one who’s always trying to keep you from getting saddled with other people’s shit, I can’t take advantage…”

“What do you need?” Die said, ignoring his reluctance.

“It’s just—Well, my daughter’s in the nurse’s office with a fever,” Kaoru said quietly. “But I took the car today, so my wife can’t come pick her up. And I’m supposed to help supervise lunch recess, or else I could take her home quickly and be back in time for my afternoon classes—”

“No problem,” Die said. “I’ll do recess duty for you. Do you need me to sit with your class during the rest of lunch, too?”

Kaoru shook his head again. “Tanaka-sensei, my student teacher, is watching them now, while I was trying to contact some people and get this worked out. He can take them to recess, too, but he’s already supposed to be there, so that still leaves an absence if I’m gone. But—“ He paused, looking at Die with an almost pained expression. “Are you really sure you don’t mind? I know you don’t do recess duty usually, and it’s not your—”

“ _Go_ ,” Die insisted, cutting him off. “Take care of your family, I can handle recess for today.”

“I will remember this,” Kaoru said, and without further protest, he hurried out of the staff room.

It felt kind of nice to be able to do something to help Kaoru. So much of the time Die felt like he was the one who needed Kaoru’s backup; at last he had a chance to pay him back in some small way.

Besides, he was even kind of looking forward to working recess. Going out to the playground and playing with the kids? He didn’t get a chance to do it often, but it certainly seemed easy enough. He’d probably enjoy it more than Kaoru would anyway.

There wasn’t time for him to run to the conbini before recess would start, so he spent a few minutes at his desk, making sure he had everything organized for the afternoon, then went to pick up a walkie-talkie and first aid kit from the office.

“You’re going out for recess?” Toshiya asked immediately upon his asking for the equipment. “Wait, are you covering for Kaoru?”

Die nodded. “It’s been a while since I got to be out there.”

“You pretty much know what you’re doing, though, right?” Toshiya said. He checked that the walkie-talkie was set to the right channel, then handed it over along with the first aid kit. “You can call us on there if you need to send anyone in to the nurse.”

Die already knew the gist; nothing had changed since the last special occasion when he’d been called in for recess duty, even if it had been almost a year ago. He thanked Toshiya, and turned to leave, only to be stopped before he made it to the door.

“Do you have a date tonight or something?”

“What?” Die said, self-consciously tugging at the collar of one of his nicest shirts. “Why would you say that?”

Toshiya looked at him thoughtfully. “I don’t know, just… something about you. That same something I keep noticing maybe.”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’ll have to tell me eventually,” Toshiya said with a sigh. “Don’t forget to bring the walkie-talkie back after recess!”

Die was just grateful that Toshiya was letting it go, yet again, and went out to find where the teachers were starting to lead their classes down and out to the playground.

He spotted Tanaka-sensei among them, leading Kaoru’s class, and waved, but he seemed to have a handle on this part of things, as Kaoru had said. Really, it looked like there were enough adults heading out that Die couldn’t imagine any area of the playground would be understaffed, but he’d volunteered to help, so he caught up with one of the other teachers, Saito-sensei, who he knew spent some time with Kaoru usually, to let him know he was filling in.

“Does he have any kind of designated area he generally supervises?” he asked, wanting to fill any space left by Kaoru's absence to the best of his ability.

Saito shrugged. “Sometimes near where the kids play soccer,” he said. “But we all need to move around sometimes, so you’ve got to be flexible.” There he paused to call a younger girl back who had wandered out of her line to walk wth some third-graders.

She looked embarrassed, but giggled, saying, “I just wanted to walk with Koji-kun!”

“Wait till you’re on the playground,” Saito said, and she rejoined her class. A moment later, the students were dismissed to play anyway and scattered like insects. Saito turned to Die with a sigh. “I don’t know how to tell her she’s barkin’ up the wrong tree with that one.”

Die didn’t really hear him at first, too distracted watching the chaos unfolding before him as the kids got free rein of the playground. God… The _children_ , they were just _everywhere_ …

His brain caught up with Saito’s words a second later and he frowned as he processed them. “Huh?” he said.

Saito gave him a look. “Koji? She’d be better off getting a crush on another boy, one who might be a little more receptive, if you know what I mean.”

Die was about to argue, say that Koji was a great kid, much kinder and gentler than most third-graders he knew, when suddenly he caught Saito’s meaning and stopped himself from saying another word.

The truth was he himself had wondered on occasion if Koji might be interested in boys, but he’d figured it was just his own experiences, causing him to pick up on tiny things that weren’t really there. He’d never discussed it with any other faculty, even Shinya, because it seemed strange to speculate on the leanings of a third-grader, but when he thought about it, it wasn’t like kids didn’t get crushes at that age. If they could talk about the second-grader following Koji around with heart-eyes, why did they have to pretend not to notice Koji’s preference for boys?

Scanning the playground, Die spotted Koji playing tag with a group of popular older boys, looking thrilled and happy, which was all that mattered anyway. Maybe that little girl could find a “more receptive” boy to take an interest in, but it wasn’t like any of these elementary schoolers were going to have some notable romance, and it wasn’t Koji’s responsibility to return anyone’s affections. Just let him live and figure out who he is.

Rather than say any of that, Die gave Saito only a vague sort of response, then took his leave, and headed towards the soccer field across the blacktop.

As he walked, he attracted the attention of various students who were not used to seeing him at recess, and he smiled and waved as his name was called around him. It was a bit like being a rockstar, he imagined.

A few kids were a little bolder, and one of his guitar students, Wakana, came right up and started walking alongside him.

“Where are we going?”

“I thought I’d go watch over there, where they’re playing soccer,” Die told her.

“Hm.” She made a face. “Do you like soccer?”

“It’s okay. I like baseball better.”

Wakana apparently saw this as the perfect segue to start talking about the idol group she liked, who had recently released a baseball-themed music video. She spent a long time talking about which member was her favorite and why, and then politely inquired as to which member Die preferred.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her all those idol groups were kind of the same to him and he couldn’t keep track of who was in which one, much less pick a favorite. “Guess,” he said.

That was clearly the best answer he could have given as she went on to excitedly rattle off tidbits and trivia about each member, searching for the charm point Die would find most appealing, and even if he really didn’t have any interest in any of the celebrities she was talking about, her enthusiasm was amusing enough to keep both of them entertained as they walked together.

In time, a couple of her friends joined them, though rather than interrupt, they just worked themselves into fits of giggles trying to hang off Die’s arms like he was another piece of playground equipment. He did have the familiar passing thought that they never would have tried such a thing with Kaoru, but before he could even bother to scold them, they were losing interest, and scampering off to do other mischief, taking Wakana with them. He never did find out which idol would be his favorite.

Drawing closer to the soccer field, Die discovered he’d gotten there just in time for some serious drama, as Freddy was fuming with fists at his sides, looking like a bull ready to charge, at another first-grader, who stood with his foot on the soccer ball, unimpressed.

“Hey, Freddy!” Die called in an overly cheery voice, hoping to diffuse whatever tension was building here.

Freddy didn’t even turn to look at him, just went on growling at the other boy.

A third child off to the side waved at Die. “Andou-sensei, Freddy is _wasting our recess_ ,” he complained.

“I _am not_!” Freddy shouted back. “ _He_ not being _nice_!” He pointed at the kid with the ball.

“Sojiro?” Die said. He seemed to recall Freddy had had some incident with him in class in the past. He turned his attention to this boy. “Could you tell me what’s going on, Sojiro?”

“He won’t let us play,” Sojiro said with a shrug. “He just keeps yelling.”

“ _NOT YELLING_!” Freddy yelled. “He always _lying_ about me!!”

Die pursed his lips, thinking how best to respond carefully. It was hard to find a solution when he still didn’t know how the problem had started.

“He _lies_ ,” Freddy said again. “And he said—he said he hates _me_ ‘cause I’m American!”

That had Die turning back to Sojiro, frowning. “Did you say that? That’s not very nice.”

“I didn’t say I hate _him_ ,” Sojiro said. “I just said I hate Americans. Except the US Women’s Soccer Team.”

While Die was still trying to process that, Freddy threw his arms up in outrage. “See, he said! That means you hate Andou-sensei too, he’s American too!”

Sojiro wrinkled his nose at Die. “You are?”

“That’s not the point,” Die said, shaking his head. “I can understand how Freddy would feel hurt—”

“The captain of the US Women’s Soccer Team said she won’t go to the White House because the president of the US hates women,” Sojiro said plainly. “He hates women, except maybe his wife.”

“Well, hmm.”

“So that’s why she hates the president and that’s why I hate him, too.”

Die stood there, chewing his lip. It was actually a relatively reasonable argument, and he couldn’t very well tell Sojiro that he was _wrong_ , but it didn’t need to become a playground conflict like this. It’s not like Freddy had voted for that guy.

“Well,” he said again, carefully. “Not liking their president doesn’t mean you have to hate all Americans, right? It’s pretty unfair to say that kind of thing to Freddy here, when you know he’s not the president of the United States. I’m sure Freddy-kun is much more respectful of women.”

Sojiro crossed his arms over his chest. “I _guess_.”

“So maybe there’s something you’d like to say to him?” Die prompted gently.

With a barely suppressed sigh, Sojiro grudgingly said, “I’m sorry, that you’re American.”

Die grimaced, but maybe the nuance was lost in translation because Freddy didn’t object. In fact, to Die’s astonishment, he sniffed and replied, “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t yell.”

Before Die could celebrate the outcome too much, another boy came running up to the soccer field, and straight to Sojiro with a new complaint: “Nana said my face is fat!”

Sojiro cradled the other boy’s round cheeks in both hands. “It’s not fat,” he said sincerely. “It’s _soft_.”

Die opted to sneak off while they all seemed sufficiently occupied with this next issue, the rest of the boys coming to crowd supportively around the newcomer, reaching for his face.

He took up a referee position for another nearby group’s game of dodgeball, while keeping watch over the soccer field from the corner of his eye. He couldn’t help but feel proud of Freddy for how he’d handled the situation: reporting the injustice to an adult within range, listening to the other party’s explanation, and eventually offering his own apology. He couldn’t say whether it would have gone as well if he hadn’t been there at the right moment, but then Die felt sort of proud of himself, too, for mediating a conflict like that when he never did playground duty normally. It was nice to think he might have saved Freddy from getting yet another note sent home.

As he kept an eye on the dodgeball game and half-listened to some gossip from a fourth-grade girl who wasn’t playing but had chosen to stand with him on the sidelines, Die finally turned away from the boys who had started kicking their soccer ball back and forth, and in doing so, he happened to accidentally make eye contact with Shinya across the playground.

Shinya raised his eyebrows and tilted his head in question, but Die could hardly explain about subbing for Kaoru from such a great distance, and just shrugged back. If Shinya wanted to ask him more about it later, Die had already learned there was no escaping him.

He was distracted enough by that, he hardly noticed another couple kids joining him at the sidelines until he was being addressed by Kenta, the popular boy from student council, with Koji close beside him.

“What brings you out to recess? Are we short-staffed?”

“Yeah, are you going to be out here every day now?” Koji asked.

Both boys looked cheerful if somewhat out of breath. The rest of the group from their game of tag had scattered.

Die shook his head. “I don’t think so, I’m just here so that another teacher could get something done. Special occasion.”

“You should have come and joined our game of tag!” Koji said. “I bet Kenta could have caught you, even if you’re a grown-up!”

“That probably just makes it easier for him,” Die laughed. “I don’t think I could keep up with you guys. I’m better as a referee.” He gestured to the game in front him.

“I don’t like playing dodgeball with these kids,” Kenta said, looking out at them. “I think they’re trying to actually hurt their opponents instead of just get them out.”

“Yeah, no headshots!” Koji agreed.

Die realized he was probably supposed to be enforcing such rules more strictly, and wondered if that wasn’t why the group had asked him to be referee, knowing they’d be able to get away with more. Whoops.

Trying to change the subject, he looked back at the two of them and said, “Kenta, did you get a haircut?”

Kenta looked startled and embarrassed, and ran a hand over his hair sheepishly. “My mom said I had to.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I like it a little bit longer,” Kenta said. Looking up at Die, he added, “Well, not as long as yours or anything.”

“No, I didn’t assume you meant as long as mine.”

“She says I’ll have to have it even shorter if I want to play baseball in junior high,” Kenta said, “so I’d better get used to it now.”

“That’s true,” Die said, nodding. “But it doesn’t look bad! I’m sure you’ll be very handsome, even with shorter hair.”

Koji piped up enthusiastically, “Yeah, because Kenta is cute _and_ handsome!”

Die pressed his lips together.

Kenta just gave Koji an awkward sort of side-eye and said, “Um. Thanks.”

Koji beamed.

Die supposed he should just be relieved that Kenta was a nice kid and handled it with grace. There were probably plenty of other boys who would have made it a lot harder on Koji.

These thoughts were interrupted by the girl on Die’s other side tugging on his sleeve, and pointing to the dodgeball game which had devolved into the kids screaming at each other, waving their arms, cries of, “ _Stop wasting our recess!_ ” heard amidst it all. Die was almost grateful for the distraction of breaking up the commotion, assisted by the responsible children on the sidelines.

It was naturally just a dispute over whether someone was in or out, which was easy enough to work out, but only a few minutes later recess was ending and all the children were lining up at their specified locations to be led back inside by their teachers.

Die was prepared to lead Kaoru’s class inside for him, but Kaoru was there waiting, looking perhaps a touch more frazzled and windswept than was normal. He just thanked Die with a hand on his shoulder and let his students come to him.

Shinya still didn’t ask any questions about Die’s being at recess when he came to play piano for his fourth-graders that afternoon. He didn’t say anything much at all, and Die wondered whether he was still upset over the way their dinner had ended the night before. Unsettled as he was to have Shinya clearly withholding his comments and curiosity, in a way, Die was glad not to have him all over him. He knew he’d been doing nothing wrong on the playground, just helping out a friend. He knew he’d done nothing wrong seeing Kyo, too, but it didn’t mean he wanted to answer a lot of questions about it.

That was something much more deserving of his concern at the moment anyway. Die hadn’t forgotten that it was the day of Kyo’s life drawing class, to which he’d been invited, and even with the other distractions, he’d been low-key worrying about it since that morning.

It felt like a part of Kyo’s life that he hadn’t been permitted to see before, like a mixing of worlds that was totally out of his control, out of his comfort zone. He didn’t want Kyo to regret inviting him in, but not knowing what to expect made it hard to prepare himself.

He had dressed up a little, in hopes of making a good impression, and he wanted to ask Kyo’s opinion on his meticulously planned outfit, but with how the day had gone, he hadn’t gotten a chance to see Kyo even to say hello, and so stood eagerly awaiting his arrival in the music classroom, buttoning and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt, helpless to determine which way looked better.

Thankfully when Kyo arrived he didn’t seem as crabby as he had the week before, even though he still had a lot to carry. He put his things down quietly and looked up at Die with interest. “You look nice,” he said.

Die grinned. “It’s okay then? I wanted to look—Well, for your class and everything, I thought I should dress up, but I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.” He gestured to his top buttons. “What do you think?”

Kyo looked and the corner of his mouth twitched up briefly. “Leave the top three open.” While Die was blushing and adjusting his shirt to Kyo’s specifications, Kyo crouched to open his guitar case. “You know, you didn’t need to dress up just for the class though, it’s really casual.”

“Oh, well,” Die said, his shoulders drooping, “I just wanted to be… I mean, you were kind of dressed up last week when you went.” He wasn’t really sure if he should even mention that observation, especially when Kyo had been in such a poor mood that day, but Die couldn’t forget how differently he’d been styled.

Kyo glanced up from his guitar, startled. “That—I wasn’t really,” he said. “But anyway, that’s _me_. You don’t have to worry about anything like that.”

Die could have argued that Kyo didn’t need to worry about it either, when surely his clothes weren’t what the class was looking at as they sketched him, but he had the sense to keep this comment to himself, and instead said, “I still wanted to look nice for our date.”

Kyo smiled at that before ducking his head and finishing taking out his instrument.

The lesson itself went far more smoothly than last week’s. It really seemed like Kyo’s mood influenced his playing and concentration, to a degree that wasn’t necessarily a positive thing, but tempted as Die was to mention it, there was no appropriate way to bring that up. At least it was nice to think Kyo was in better spirits now that they were dating. He seemed to still be far more at ease with it all than Die was.

Die admonished himself inwardly for letting his mind go there again. He wasn’t having doubts about wanting to _be_ with Kyo. It was all so much more complicated than what he wanted. He sat there, watching Kyo’s hands on his instrument and felt nothing but warmth and affection, and maybe a little horniness. But there was so much under the surface in Die’s mind, so much uncertainty and fear, more than he knew how to sort out, and he knew it was hard for Kyo to see his point of view. He wished he could be more like Kyo, more willing and able to fall into something heart-first, to enjoy the truth of himself without thinking how it might look to others, but it had never been something in his skillset, and a part of him wondered how long it would take for Kyo to lose his patience with him.

“Do you space out this much in all your students’ lessons or am I just lucky?”

Die shook his head, trying to pull himself together. “Sorry,” he said. “I was doing that a lot at our last lesson, too, wasn’t I?”

Softly, Kyo asked, “Still a lot on your mind?”

Die looked at him, wondering how much he should say. He didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, or imply that he was having second thoughts about their relationship, but it seemed wrong to wave him off when he was featuring so prominently in his ruminations. “I just get easily distracted,” he confessed, “when you’re here.”

That must not have been what Kyo was expecting because his eyes widened and he sat up straight. “How so?”

“You know,” Die said, because Kyo _had_ to know, had to be distracting him on purpose at least some of the time. “Just… everything about you. Your hands and your lips and your… Last week I just kept thinking about you going to pose for that class, about everyone just getting to—look at you, like that…”

“You want to look at me that way too?” Kyo said, leaning in over his guitar. “Just sitting there naked, in front of a room full of people?”

Die felt a shiver run down his spine. He hadn’t quite meant for them to delve into this topic, especially not in the middle of Kyo’s guitar lesson, but he always seemed to lose his grip on things when Kyo started looking at him like _that_ , when his voice dropped to that rough almost-whisper, so different from his regular speaking voice. He nodded. “Guess I’ll get my chance tonight?”

Kyo's eyes narrowed just for a second and then he looked away. “I forgot to ask, how were the kids today?”

That was a jarring change of subject, but Die figured since he'd already known their conversation had strayed into something inappropriate, he couldn't complain when it was drawn back.

Still, the question itself was somewhat puzzling. “They were fine," he said.

“Fine? No incessant nosy questions and troublemaking?” Kyo pressed. "You did have dinner with Shinya last night?”

Die stopped to consider it, but really there hadn’t been anything. He’d had both morning and afternoon classes, plus his extra stint on the playground, but none of this students had raised any new (or old) speculations about his personal affairs at all. He hadn’t even thought about it. Shaking his head, Die said, “No, no one said a thing.”

“Hm. Interesting."

Kyo’s clipped tone was disconcerting. Die could have seen how he might be amused, maybe even _smug_ , able to gloat over how silly it had been for Die to worry, but ultimately it was a good thing that the kids weren’t gossiping, right? So why did Kyo seem more irritated than triumphantly supportive?

“Is it interesting?” Die asked warily. “Why do you say so?”

Kyo shrugged. “Because _my_ students—you know, as you told me, I'm sure they’re nowhere near as difficult as _yours_ , because despite being the _same children_ , you know better than I do what they’re like—would not stop hounding me about how sad it is that I’m single. I’ve got a team of sixth graders who seem totally determined to set me up with someone by the end of the year. They’re even getting their mothers in on it.”

“But you’re not even single,” Die said, feeling even more nervous about where this was going.

“I know,” Kyo said. “I explained that, but they wanted to know _who_ I was dating all of a sudden.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t tell them.”

“Right," Die said. “So… But you could just make someone up?”

“I wasn’t going to lie to their faces,” Kyo said sharply. “I just told them it was private, and I couldn’t say anymore about it. They weren’t convinced.”

“That’s what you told me I should say to shut down personal questions,” Die pointed out.

“Sure, if that’s your policy,” Kyo said. “These kids have known me long enough to know I’ll answer their questions nine times out of ten; from me, it just sounds like a cop-out.”

Die stared at him, trying to hold back the helpless laugh that threatened to sputter out. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t think I have to okay you naming me as your boyfriend to your whole class.”

“No, of course not,” Kyo said. “But you have no problem going out to dinner with Shinya, despite what you claim are nearly _obsessive_ rumors about the two of you. And yet you’re ashamed to be seen with me at a fucking _McDonald’s_.”

Now Die was even more lost. “What does my going to dinner with Shinya have to do with anything? We have dinner all the time!”

“Exactly!” Kyo said. "So trying to say you’re worried about what your students would say is bullshit, and you know it!”

“That doesn’t mean I should have to tell them everything!” Die said. “I don’t even talk to most of my friends about my romantic relationships.”

Kyo leaned his head back and growled at the ceiling. “You’re missing the point. I’m not _asking_ you to—It’s just the _double standard_ , do you seriously not see that?”

Die played anxiously with the ends of his hair, unsure how to fix this. Even if he more or less got what Kyo was saying, he couldn’t understand how he was getting this upset about it, and it felt like it had come out of nowhere. There was some kind of communication failure on both sides here, since Kyo still wasn’t grasping Die’s side of things either, but how were they supposed to work through it now, when Kyo still had his guitar in his lap and they had somewhere to go as soon as the lesson was over?

After a minute, Die said, “I’m sorry,” figuring that was probably the fastest and easiest way to end any conflict.

Kyo lifted his head to look at Die in surprise, but there was still something else in his face, like he knew better than to accept Die’s half-assed apology. He probably did; he’d always been good at seeing past Die’s facades.

“Can we talk about this more later?” Die said carefully. “I want us to understand each other, and I want us to really have the time to do that.”

Kyo looked like he might still argue, maybe just for the sake of not giving in so easily, but then he slumped a little in his seat, and nodded. “Yeah. It can wait.” Glancing at the clock, he added, “We should start finishing up here anyway.”

It wasn’t the moment to playfully remind Kyo who the teacher was in these lessons, though Die would have liked to break some of the tension that way. Instead he went ahead and packed up, hoping he hadn’t ruined _another_ one of their dates, before it even began.

Kyo remained quiet as they put away instruments and sheet music and got the classroom back in order, but Die wasn’t picking up on any waves of irritation or hostility, and since that wasn’t something Kyo usually bothered to hide, Die took it as a good sign, that he wasn’t _too_ pissed at him.

He opened up a little bit more once they got to Die’s car, though that may have just been because he was obligated to speak in order to give Die directions to where they were going.

Die was eager to keep the conversation going once it started. “So, you never told me, how did you end up getting involved in these art classes anyway?” he asked as they drove.

“The instructor,” Kyo said, after a silence just long enough to make Die think he wouldn’t answer. “I’ve known him for a while, so when he mentioned he needed models I was happy to help. Plus, I can always use the extra money.”

“Right,” Die said. It was no surprise that Kyo would step up to help out a friend, but Die was realizing for the first time that this instructor _was_ a _friend_. He’d known he’d be seeing a part of Kyo’s world he was unfamiliar with, but he didn’t know any of Kyo’s _friends_ , and it suddenly seemed like a bigger deal even than he’d built it up to be in his head.

Didn’t it seem soon, too early in their relationship for this kind of step? Die had enough trouble not screwing things up when he was with Kyo one-on-one, and now he had to impress his friends, too? Then again, Kyo had met some of Die’s friends already, people who worked with them at the school. It wasn’t the same, but maybe it was only fair for them to get on even footing by him getting to know the people in Kyo’s life as well.

It would have been intimidating anyway, but it was _Kyo_. Die was really struggling to imagine what kind of people Kyo had as friends. This guy, the class’ instructor, was apparently another artist, which wasn’t surprising, but was he going to be intense in the same way Kyo was? That might be hard to relate to.

He cast a glance in Kyo’s direction, but his face was turned away, looking out the passenger side window, and there was no way to tell what he was thinking.

“And it’s a life drawing class, right?” Die said, even if he already knew that it was.

“Mmhmm. But it’s a drop-in course, so there are a few regulars, but the group is different every week,” Kyo said. “The models come and go, too.”

The other models, Die realized, might also be people Kyo considered friends. Wasn’t it awkward to have his first interaction with them occur while they were in some state of undress? He didn’t voice this thought, instead saying, “I’ve never been to a drawing class. I mean, not as an adult, anyway.”

He saw Kyo turn towards him out of the corner of his eye. “Are you nervous?”

“I am,” Die admitted. “I don’t know what to expect, and I want your friends to like me, and—you might have noticed, I have a habit of embarrassing myself.”

Suddenly, Kyo’s hand was on Die’s thigh, warm and reassuring. “You’ll be fine. I told you, it’s casual, you have nothing to worry about. And I’ll be there the whole time.”

He didn’t say anything about what his friends would think, meeting Die, but Die tried not to read into that too much.

Kyo left his hand on Die’s thigh as they lapsed back into silence, and Die couldn’t deny that he found it comforting, though he was still nervous for a plethora of reasons. It was true that he’d never taken any art classes beyond the basic kind of thing they did in grade school, and even that hadn’t been taken nearly as seriously as the ones Kyo taught. Once he’d decided to pursue music, other creative endeavors had more or less lost their appeal, and even if he was’t going to tonight’s class to learn, he could already tell he would feel out of place there.

Die’s nerves had not totally subsided by the time he was finding a lot for them to park in, but he did feel some relief at the recognition that his unease now was nothing like that he’d felt at McDonald’s; there was no concern about who he might bump into here, only about how he would perform in front of Kyo and his people.

Kyo took his hand as they left the parking lot, squeezed it gently, and it felt incredibly natural, to walk down the sidewalk hand-in-hand. It was something Die had hardly been aware he could do, and yet Kyo made it look so easy, like he didn’t even need to think about it, and once again Die was filled with both envy and admiration.

They approached the building where Kyo informed him the class was held, a community center with rooms reserved for all sorts of classes and activities. They headed up to the fourth floor, and Die asked, “Are _you_ nervous?”

“About what?”

Die shrugged, somewhat embarrassed by how his curiosity had burst forth without better management. “Everyone looking at you. Being so… exposed, in front of strangers like that.”

Kyo tilted his head thoughtfully. “I guess it doesn’t really bother me.” He paused, then added, “It is a little different with you here, though.”

That brought a flicker of warmth to Die’s heart, to think that Kyo would even notice him in the crowd, and he ducked his head as they walked down the hall, eventually coming to a door with a window covered by a light flower-printed curtain. Without even looking at the schedule posted to the side, Kyo pushed the door open, waving Die in ahead of himself.

There were more people there than Die expected, probably close to thirty, milling around the wide, open room with their little styrofoam coffee cups and chatting, or setting up in one of the seats arranged in an arc around the smallish platform near the front. No one seemed to take any notice of them as they came in.

With one final squeeze of Die’s hand, Kyo let go and moved with purpose towards the office branching off from the far side of the room, where just outside, a slim, brown-haired man, not much taller than Kyo himself, in a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, was turned away from them, sharpening pencils.

Die expected Kyo to call out to the man, maybe tap him on the shoulder, but instead he playfully tweaked his side, making him jump and let out a squeak. He turned and shoved at Kyo’s chest, both of them laughing.

“I could’ve put your eye out with this!” the man said, holding up his handful of sharpened pencils.

“I’ve heard that before,” Kyo said.

They both laughed again, and it was so unlike anything Die had ever seen Kyo do before that he felt momentarily frozen. What the hell was this?

“You’re here earlier than usual,” the man observed.

“I had a ride,” Kyo said, but rather than take the chance to introduce Die, he went on to ask, “Who else is here tonight? Jun was considering it, right?”

“Yeah, but the timing didn’t work out. Looks like it’ll just be you and Yumi today.”

Die had no way to insert himself into the conversation; he didn’t know any of the people they were talking about, had nothing to contribute, but he was feeling increasingly awkward, standing there totally ignored while they carried on. It was unsettling to see Kyo laughing, smiling, looking so relaxed and comfortable around this stranger. Die had never really seen him interacting with adults that he _liked_ , and the thought that _this_ was how Kyo might normally behave in a friendly atmosphere was sort of alarming.

Still, he waited until Kyo seemed to remember himself, and said, “Oh, Satoshi, this is Die, he came to join us tonight.”

As if suddenly noticing his presence for the first time, the other man—Satoshi—turned to look at Die and smiled, giving a little bow. “Welcome! And it’s nice to meet you.”

“Thanks,” Die said. “Nice to meet you, too.” Now that he was really looking at him, Die thought there was something seriously familiar about this guy’s face, though he couldn’t think where he might have met him.

“So, are you here to draw, or joining us as a model?”

“Oh, no,” Die said at once, “I’m just—I don’t know how to—I’m not an artist, I’m actually a musician.”

“So?” Satoshi shrugged. “I’m a dancer.”

Kyo leaned into Satoshi’s space and said in an undertone, “ _Yeah_ , you are.” He fell back, snickering when Satoshi hip-checked him.

“My point is,” Satoshi continued, “art comes in many forms. Just ‘cause you have one area you excel in doesn’t mean you can’t learn anything from trying your hand at another medium.”

Die couldn’t help but think of his little ball of clay in Kyo’s class, how out of his element he’d felt trying to shape it. He’d been distracted then, but if Kyo was modeling here, wouldn’t he be even more distracted? How could he hope to create anything worthwhile?

“But, if you came along to pose for the class,” Satoshi said, “you’d of course be more than welcome in that capacity as well.”

Die felt himself going red even as Kyo broke in, “Nah, he won’t do it. I already asked him.”

Satoshi looked Die up and down once more before turning back to Kyo. “That’s a shame. Would’ve been nice for the class to get the variety of body type.”

“Stuck lookin’ at me, I guess,” Kyo said.

“Can’t complain about that,” Satoshi said with a small smile. “But not everyone can be as much of an exhibitionist as you.”

“Fuck off!” Kyo said, laughing.

The uneasy feeling watching them was back (if it had ever left). As they teased each other, pulling faces and laughing and playfully _touching_ , more than seemed altogether necessary, Die got the distinct impression that this wasn’t how Kyo was with his friends; this was Kyo _flirting_.

Not that it was one-sided, no, Satoshi was certainly flirting back. That didn’t make it better. This guy had some nerve taking to Kyo like that _right in front of Die_ —only, Die realized, what reason would he have to censor himself? Kyo hadn’t even introduced Die as his boyfriend, and while he hadn’t noticed that detail in the moment, now he was wondering why the hell not?

After another minute, Satoshi excused himself to finish setting up, and released them to find a spot in the semi-circle where the other students were arranging themselves, but Die could only trail after Kyo, feeling a bit dazed.

Maybe it was just Kyo being considerate, keeping their relationship on the down-low, as Die had requested, but it didn’t feel like that was the case. Here they were in Kyo’s world, and it just didn’t make sense for him to hide something like that from a _friend_ of his. It could have been a simple oversight, rather than a deliberate omission, but Die didn’t really buy that either; Kyo wasn’t the type to say—or not say—things by accident.

Which meant that he had _chosen_ not to tell Satoshi they were dating. Die just didn’t know why.

Technically, he supposed he could ask, but that would absolutely make him look paranoid and jealous, and probably hypocritical, and how was this “date” off to an even more uncomfortable start than the last one?

All the same, he didn’t feel like he could let it go without saying _anything_ , so while Kyo found them a spot and started taking out various sketching materials from his bag, Die started in, as casually as he could, “So, I guess you and Satoshi go way back, huh?”

Kyo barely looked up from what he was doing. “I told you that already. He’s a really decent guy.”

“Seems like, ah, you guys must have a lot of history,” Die said, carefully vague.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Kyo said. He handed over a large spiral-bound sketchbook from his bag, and all at once it hit Die why Satoshi had looked so familiar.

He had seen him before, not in person, but sketched with such evident care, by Kyo himself.

At that time, he’d felt like there was more that he wanted to know about this man, and now he had a name to go with the face, but he still didn’t have the story. Between the flirting and the lovingly lined portrait from Kyo’s sketchbook, Die was starting to fill in the blanks.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “Did—Did you guys go out or something?”

“Uh-huh,” Kyo said, naturally not finding it to be half the dramatic revelation it was to Die. “Well," he said, after a few seconds, “maybe that’s not quite how I’d put it. We fooled around, but we were never serious.”

“I see.” Die didn’t know what to do with this information. He didn’t think of himself as the jealous type, generally speaking, and sure, he’d known (or assumed) that Kyo had had relationships with other men. He hadn’t thought he’d have a problem with that—but then he hadn’t thought he’d have to _meet_ one of those men when he was supposed to be spending an evening with Kyo.

He had a lot of questions, like, had this fooling around been back in their university days, or something more recent? Was Satoshi aware that Kyo was no longer single? Had Kyo ever been planning not _telling_ Die about this, if he hadn’t asked on his own?

Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe it wasn’t any of Die’s business who Kyo had slept with in the past, and it wasn’t like he’d been actively hiding it. But a heads up might’ve been nice.

Kyo went off to talk to some other people, leaving Die lost and confused with Kyo’s art supplies set up in front of him. He realized now Kyo had been taking them out _for him_ , so that Die would have the chance to do some drawing as Satoshi had suggested. Had this been part of Kyo’s plan all along?

Die looked down at the sketchbook Kyo had left with him, but upon opening it, he found it was obviously not the one he’d seen before; this one was practically brand new, with only the first couple pages filled with doodles of some creepy-cute characters and not much else.

The other people there had mostly taken their seats by now, and Die looked around at them as he waited for the class to officially begin. No one besides Satoshi was remotely familiar, which was a relief. He didn’t think he’d seen any of these other faces in Kyo’s sketchbook, though, when he thought about it, that didn’t mean much. He’d been permitted to leaf through _one_ of Kyo’s sketchbooks. Who knew how many countless others could contain images of his other past lovers or hookups? It shouldn’t have bothered Die as much as it did, he knew, but his relationship with Kyo was still so _new_. He hadn’t had the chance to really build up any security, and he couldn’t help but wonder if someone like Satoshi might be better for Kyo; an artist, unashamed of who he was, part of the same community to which he already belonged, rather than trying to awkwardly bridge two worlds.

Kyo came back and hooked one foot around the leg of his stool, dragging it closer to Die’s before sitting and handing Die one of the two cups of coffee he was carrying. “Looks like Yumi’s up first,” he said, and took a sip from his own cup. “I’ll be posing after the mid-session break.”

Die nodded, looking down into the coffee cup without drinking from it.

He looked up when Kyo nudged him gently.

“You okay?” Kyo asked, his voice low. “The coffee’s not great or anything, but it won’t hurt you.”

Die shook his head. It wasn’t the coffee, and he still didn’t want to make the Satoshi thing into a bigger deal than it was, especially not in front of all these people. He looked around at them again and asked quietly, “No one else you wanted to introduce me to?”

Kyo paused and when Die looked over he was frowning, bemused. “I don’t really know anyone else here,” Kyo said.

Die found that hard to believe. “You said some people are regulars.”

“Sure,” Kyo said. “But I’ve been to the afternoon class more than the evening one.” His eyes scanned the room. “I think I recognize… three or four of these people? But not like we’re close.”

“And you’re gonna take your clothes off in front of this many strangers?”

Kyo’s cheeks colored very slightly. “It’s for anatomy practice. You make it sound so…”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s just my body, you know?” Kyo said, gaze dropping to his own disposable coffee cup. “It’s not as hard as you’d think. Not like I’m baring my _soul_ to these people. In a way, doing the drawing side of things leaves you more exposed.”

Die could understand that to an extent, but he didn’t think he’d ever feel the way about it that Kyo seemed to. He tried to ignore the echoes of Satoshi calling Kyo an exhibitionist in his mind, and drank half of his second-rate coffee in one go.

Setting the cup aside, he turned his attention back to the array of supplies Kyo had taken out. “So, why do we need so many different pencils, and which one am I supposed to use?”

Kyo laughed softly, and started a hushed but unhurried explanation of the different pencils, hard vs. soft graphite, and what worked best on this kind of paper, depending on how much pressure Die used. He paid the people around them no mind, even when Satoshi moved to the platform to begin the class and introduce their first model.

Although they were there for Satoshi's class, Die came to understand he was really receiving his art instruction directly from Kyo, sitting so close their knees were touching, a gentle hand lingering now and again on the small of his back as Kyo whispered guidance in his ear. It was intimate, even in a room full of people, and yet Die felt secure in the knowledge that no one else there was giving them a second thought. Maybe this wouldn’t turn out to be such a bad date after all.

Die had already known that Kyo was a good teacher, but he’d never given a scenario like this much consideration. Only a few hours ago, he’d sat across from Kyo, patiently instructing him on the guitar, but now the tables were turned, and he didn’t know how to take it. Every time Kyo reached across him to show him some technique, or murmured praise so quietly Die had to strain to hear it, he thought he would combust. Was this how Kyo felt during their guitar lessons? Or was he deliberately toying with Die, trying to rile him up because he knew he could?

It was too easy, Die was sure. In spite of his misgivings upon their arrival, he couldn’t stop himself from turning to putty in Kyo’s capable hands. He felt only dimly aware of the naked woman whose figure he was sketching, too wrapped up in every word and subtle gesture from the man at his side.

He was startled when the mid-session break was announced, having lost track of time completely.

More startling still was the hand on his shoulder as Satoshi appeared behind him, and said, “See, looks like there was a little artist in you after all!”

Kyo squeezed Die’s knee in response to the words, and Die felt glad he was facing away from Satoshi so he couldn’t see how badly he was blushing.

A moment later, he’d moved on, not even bothering to wait for a response, but Die still felt embarrassed. “What do you think he meant by that?” he asked Kyo.

“Meant?” Kyo looked puzzled. “I think he was trying to give you a compliment.”

“You don’t think it was—? About…?” Die gestured to Kyo’s hand still on his knee.

Kyo snorted, giving his knee another squeeze before pulling away. “I doubt it.”

“Well, I don’t know!” Die said, still trying to keep his voice low. “Like, do you think he still…? I mean, I don’t know how long ago it was you two were—together.”

“Not very long ago,” Kyo said with a shrug, which was not what Die was expecting at all, and he felt his organs sinking wrongly. “But he’s got a steady boyfriend now, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Die wanted to point out that Kyo _also_ had a steady boyfriend now, or had he forgotten? But then Kyo was standing up and rolling his shoulders back, taking off his jacket.

“I’d better go get ready, I’m up next.” He laid his jacket on his stool, and bent to give Die a brief, chaste kiss. He pulled back smiling. “I’ll look forward to seeing your depiction of me.”

Die couldn’t do much more than nod helplessly as he watched Kyo stalk up to the front of the room, the little screened-off changing area for the models there. Even though he’d known from the beginning that this was coming, he still felt his stomach tightening in nervous anticipation of Kyo getting up on that platform, naked for the whole class to see.

It was sort of cold and lonely now at his station, without Kyo pressed up close to him and telling him what to do. Die imagined the other students’ eyes were on him, despite how he knew logically that that wasn’t the case. Kyo had acted as a kind of shield, protecting Die, keeping him from feeling quite so out of place, and with him gone, Die was overly aware of what an outsider he was.

He tried to keep himself on task; if Kyo was going to want to see Die’s sketches at the end of class, he’d better apply everything he'd learned in the first half. Die turned to a fresh page, picked out his starting pencil, and waited for the break to end.

His determination wavered a bit when Kyo actually came out, let a simple robe fall from his shoulders and calmly put himself on display at the front of the room.

It seemed that Die’s brain had rather abruptly left the building. All he could do was gape at Kyo sitting up there, the epitome of sexy nonchalance, while the rest of the class started their work, like proper art students.

After what had to be at least a full minute, Die physically shook himself, and straightened up. Anyone watching must have thought he was a complete pervert for how he was practically drooling over Kyo, and Die couldn’t even come up with a good excuse. It wasn’t like it was his first time seeing Kyo naked. He’d seen him just last weekend, unclothed and in a decidedly more sexual context than this, but he had the feeling it wasn’t something he’d get used to anytime soon.

Honestly there was nothing sexual about Kyo’s pose now whatsoever—save for whatever natural energy he exuded that had Die feeling weak to him, whatever he was doing. He was just sitting up there, relaxed, slouching slightly, one elbow resting on one knee, his face perfectly neutral.

How could he be so relaxed? Everyone in the room had their eyes on him, there was nothing to hide behind, and yet Kyo was utterly unfazed.

Die couldn’t imagine it. He gripped his borrowed pencil, not daring to make any lines on the page as he marveled at Kyo’s ability to get up and be himself in front of everyone, heedless of what they might think of him. Die could never do it. He could get in front of a class full of kids and teach a pre-planned lesson about ukuleles or time signatures. He could get on astage with a guitar in front of him, immerse himself in the music enough that he was a part of it, but that was _safe_. No one could really see _him_ , could pass judgment without any barriers between him and them.

The enormity of Kyo's fearlessness threatened to overwhelm him, just thinking that he was allowed to be a part of such bravery and vulnerability—and then he remembered everyone there was allowed to witness it just as much as he was.

He was starting to get used to this surging jealousy when it came to Kyo, though he couldn’t recall having experienced it much in past relationships and he knew it wasn’t healthy or productive. He just couldn’t help his quiet outrage over the fact that all these strangers were permitted to see Kyo this way, when they couldn’t possibly appreciate him enough, and especially that _Satoshi_ would have the privilege when he’d obviously failed to lock that down.

Die put his pencil to paper with this baseless sort of possessiveness driving him. He knew it was unreasonable, especially given what a short time they’d been dating, but he wanted there to be a clear distinction between him and the rest of the drawing class. He decided to make that happen by drawing Kyo with a truth that no one else could come close to.

Lines were sketched, in accordance with what Kyo had taught him, yes, but while it wasa life drawing class and drawing what they could see before them was the focus for everyone else, Die took extra time just working on Kyo’s eyes, trying to capture something that shone from within, something to show how much better he knew Kyo than these other people did.

And honestly, Die was not much of a visual artist; he didn’t know what he was doing other than wearing down Kyo’s eraser more quickly than his pencil. But if he accomplished nothing else before the end of the class, he wanted to prove that he _saw_ Kyo, even the parts of him that he wasn’t showing, and he had to hope that was enough to make him deserving.

During his time up on the platform, Kyo changed poses at appointed intervals, but always maintained that casual indifference that Die found so breathtaking. He tried to break past it in his own rendition of Kyo, but every attempt to capture the raw purity of Kyo’s energy came out dull and pedestrian, looked like it could have been done by one of his third-graders. Die couldn’t prove anything this way.

Kyo’s final pose had him facing more outward, and when Die looked up at his face, Kyo met his eyes, and smirked. Die didn’t have to look around to know that smirk was only for him. It was like someone spritzing him with water to wake him up. He didn’t need to prove something to Kyo by drawing him just right; he was only there at Kyo’s invitation in the first place, and no one else there was receiving that kind of eye contact.

The excitement at seeing Kyo naked in front of him, which he had suppressed in favor of actually trying to draw, was coursing through him once more, and Die shifted on his stool, aware of how Kyo was watching his every move. There was a light in Kyo’s eyes, visible even at this distance, that made Die feel far too warm, and he was starting to wonder just how much class time was left before he could get Kyo alone.

His pencil was limp in his hand as his gaze moved slowly and appreciatively down Kyo’s body. Despite how Die was overheating, Kyo was naked in the wide, air-conditioned room, and his nipples were peaked. He was too far for Die to see if his skin had all broken out in gooseflesh, but the desire was there, to run his warm hands down Kyo’s chest, his defined abs, feel him gasping and arching into the touch.

One of Kyo’s hands rested lazily, high on his thigh, which felt like deliberate taunting, drawing Die’s attention between his legs—though the angle of his other leg kept Die from seeing much more than a thatch of dark hair fading into shadows.

Die let out a slow breath, trying to remain calm as his eyes flicked to the art students around him. Did the ones sitting farther to the right have a better view, not blocked by Kyo’s leg? Could they be putting the shading on Kyo’s cock right then and there? Maybe they could see better than Die could whether Kyo was at all _affected_ by all the eyes on him, by the way he had to know he was commanding Die’s attention in particular.

It had to be bad when Die caught himself trying to think of an excuse to get up and move to that side of the room just to sneak a peek. He dropped his gaze back down to his mess of a page of sketches, and reminded himself he would have other chances to get a look at what Kyo was packing, and honestly under much better circumstances.

The last few minutes were spent trying to get the wicked curve of Kyo’s mouth exactly right, and then Satoshi was speaking, something Die didn’t quite hear, about next week’s class, and cleaning up everyone’s coffee cups. Die watched as Kyo stretched, his back arching magnificently, then slunk off to the changing area with his robe draped over one arm, effectively hiding any of his body’s potential reactions.

Impatient to leave as soon as Kyo was ready, Die busied himself with gathering up all the supplies he’d been using, getting them in order for Kyo to stow safely again in his bag. He stopped himself before closing the sketchbook just in case Kyo really did want to see what he had drawn, self-conscious as it made him.

He didn’t have to wait long before Kyo was striding towards him, still wearing that same cocky look, though he now also wore clothes.

“How’d I turn out?” Kyo asked with a grin, not hesitating in wrapping one arm around Die’s waist as he leaned in to see the sketchbook.

“Um. I…” Die trailed off and shrugged, unsure how to explain or excuse his page of disjointed scribbles, Kyo’s eyes here and there and somewhere else, very little of Kyo’s technical guidance clear in the final product. He held the book up with shaky hands for Kyo’s inspection.

Kyo looked silently for a long moment, and Die was too nervous to interrupt. It didn’t feel like when he’d sat in on Kyo’s class at school, when he’d failed to do the clay project properly. That had been for fun, he’d laughed it off. Now he was sure however Kyo judged his work would have some significant impact, and he didn’t even want to think what it might be.

At length, Kyo just let out a short, soft laugh. “Didn’t quite expect that to be the part of my body you’d get hung up on.”

Die swallowed. “I wanted…” He stopped, unable to put what he’d wanted into words. Maybe it was better left unsaid anyway.

Rather than pass some concrete judgment, Kyo kissed him on the cheek and bent to retrieve his jacket. “I’m starving. You still down to get dinner?”

They cleaned up and left without saying goodbye to Satoshi or anyone else, but Die didn’t know if he should comment on that or not. He felt that the less time they spent talking about Kyo’s ex-whatever-he-was the better, but even without them talking about him, Die couldn’t fully scrub his image, his _presence_ , from his mind. There were still questions he didn’t dare ask.

Dinner was even less romantic than their trip to McDonald’s, if possible, something cheap and fast they picked up and ate in the car, but Die, having skipped lunch to supervise recess, was too hungry to care. He wondered if some of his emotional turmoil might have just been unchecked hunger. He reckoned he felt worlds better as they drove back to Kyo’s place, and it seemed that Kyo’s mood had improved, too, certainly at least in comparison with their previous date. Now that it was just the two of them, Kyo was talkative and warm, his hand frequently coming to rest above Die’s knee while they drove, and even the simple gesture was so intimate Die felt like he would crack open.

He went up with Kyo to his apartment without bothering to pretend he wasn’t planning to, and they barely got their shoes and jackets off and dropped their bags on the floor before Die was stumbling to back Kyo up against the nearest wall, dragging his teeth along his throat.

Kyo wasn’t complaining. He tipped his head back, allowing Die better access, and slid his hands up underneath Die’s button-up. “You…” he started, in a breathless voice, but nothing scathing or witty followed as Die sucked at his pulse point, and then moved to lick down and across his collarbone.

Die’s hand skimmed down Kyo’s belly till his fingers hooked in his belt. He wanted to drop to his knees right there and lay claim to Kyo’s cock, take him in a way that no one else who might have been eyeing the merchandise actually got to do. If he couldn’t prove himself with his mediocre drawings, maybe he could get his point across this way.

In the moment he paused, Kyo tilted his face to capture his lips in a kiss, deep and slow, his tongue moving so naturally against Die’s own that it took a second to notice it. One leg hooked around the back of Die’s thigh, pulling him closer against him.

The kiss broke and Die blurted out, “Let me suck your cock.”

Kyo’s eyelids fluttered and he rolled his hips up against Die’s. “I’m not gonna stop you.”

Die undid Kyo’s belt, maybe too eagerly, but after an hour of staring at him naked in a public place, it just seemed wrong for him to be so covered up now that they were in private. He pulled Kyo’s pants and boxers down his thighs as he lowered himself onto the floor, bringing him face to face with Kyo’s half-hard cock. He didn’t wait before licking a broad, possessive stripe up the length of the underside.

Kyo sighed, and combed his fingers through Die’s hair, keeping it back from his face. “You look good like this,” he said in barely more than a whisper. “All dressed up and on your knees for me.”

“Almost as good as you looked, posing and showing off for a whole roomful of people?”

Kyo scoffed. “I wasn’t show—” The rest of his protest was lost in a moan as Die took half his length into his mouth and sucked.

Die looked up at him, at his lip caught between his teeth, his hooded eyes. He felt like he was _supposed_ to look up at him, even like this. _Especially_ like this. Kyo liked to be watched.

Pulling back, Die wrapped a hand around Kyo’s shaft, stroked him as he asked, “Is it true what he said?”

Confusion washed across Kyo’s features as his eyes took a second to focus on Die. “What who said?”

“Satoshi,” Die said, even though bringing him up was the last thing he wanted to do during sex with Kyo. “About you being an exhibitionist. You get off on all those people looking at you?”

Kyo stared down at him open-mouthed for a minute, then his eyebrows drew together. “No,” he said, and inhaled sharply through his nose when Die’s hand twisted below the head of his cock. “No, I— _fuck_.”

“Hmm.” Die’s mouth descended once more. He wasn’t sure if he believed him, but maybe it was a topic better saved for another occasion.

“But—”

Die’s gaze flitted back up to Kyo’s face.

“But—It was different, with you there,” Kyo said. “Knowing you were watching me, that— _ah_ —that was something different.”

Once more Die pulled back, even his hand falling from Kyo’s erection, unable to concentrate when his heart was skipping excitedly. “Yeah?”

Kyo gave him a disbelieving look. “Yeah, of course. It was a total turn-on to think you couldn’t take your eyes off me.” He swallowed, and looking a little less sure, added, “I… I guess I’d hoped it was for you, too.”

Die said, “It was,” but something strange had happened to the moment. His hands were firm on Kyo’s hips, but with the interruption and how he’d withdrawn his attention from his cock, it felt awkward to try and dive back in.

“Here, get up,” Kyo said, helping him to his feet. He pulled up his pants as well, though he left them unfastened. “Come to bed with me.”

Die nodded and followed him to the bedroom, still kicking himself for wrecking what had been going so nicely. He didn’t know where these doubts were coming from. Even excited as he was to think that Kyo had been aroused being watched by him, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was _just_ him. Had Satoshi really only been kidding around with that exhibitionist comment, or was it something he knew from experience? Did Kyo like to know Satoshi was watching him, too?

These thoughts were cut off by Kyo pushing Die down on the bed and kissing him fiercely. It felt like payback for what they’d been doing against the wall, and Die couldn’t’t think of a reason to do anything but give in.

Satoshi left Die’s mind (along with everything else) as Kyo deftly undressed him and produced a bottle of lube from—wherever the hell he kept it, that wasn’t a concern for Die at the moment.

“Is this okay?” Kyo asked, looking him in the eye as his hand moved between Die’s legs.

“Yes,” Die said, even though it seemed like an understatement. Already his head was full of Kyo and nothing else; he was eager for his body to be the same, and for those beautiful artist’s hands to touch him in the most intimate of ways.

It almost surprised him how patient and gentle Kyo was, working him open. It shouldn’t have, but the heat he saw in Kyo’s eyes, the sharpness of his teeth tugging at Die’s bottom lip, were hard to reconcile with the careful way those slender fingers stretched Die’s hole, rubbing inside him in a way that felt so incredibly _good_ , a smoldering, building pleasure rather than one that sparked or slammed into him.

And just before he could get impatient, Kyo was moving on, leaving Die empty while he got a condom rolled over his cock, then lining himself up at Die’s entrance.

Again, he looked at Die’s face, as if waiting for permission to continue, and only once Die nodded did he start to slowly press into him.

Although Die had just had that cock in his mouth a very short while ago, it seemed much, much bigger now— _too_ big, and some embarrassing sounds were forced out of his mouth as he threw his head back on Kyo’s pillows and wrapped his long legs around Kyo’s waist. Kyo was using that same agonizingly slow consideration that he’d used prepping him, and Die didn’t honestly know how much more he could handle.

The lightest of touches had Die tipping his chin back down, blinking a few times to see Kyo properly. Kyo didn’t have to say anything for Die to know what he wanted. The darkness in his eyes spoke as clearly as any words: _Look at me. Watch me._ And Die nodded yet again, happy to be Kyo’s one-man audience.

With just a hint of a smile, Kyo started to move, not at the cautious, gradual pace from before, but like he had a job to do, and it was to fuck Die within an inch of his life. And really, like it was a job he enjoyed, a little too much.

Die couldn’t look away for even a second. He was clinging to Kyo’s shirt so tightly he heard something tear, and that was how came to realize Kyo was still fully dressed. He’d taken the time to remove all of Die’s clothing, but only bothered to make sure his own dick was free. Die may have gotten worked up looking at Kyo bare in front of an art class, but now that they were in bed together, the intensity was just as much, or more, with him entirely clothed.

He’d turned the tables on Die yet again.

At the same moment that this processed, Kyo shifted to get a better angle, and Die let out an uninhibited moan. His gaze traveled down Kyo’s form from his disheveled hair to his shirt, rumpled by Die’s own grasping hands. Die’s bare thighs were hitched up around Kyo’s waist, and Die’s bare cock was leaking between them, dragging against the front of Kyo’s shirt, leaving a growing wet spot on the material.

“Oh, fuck,” Die whimpered at the picture they made together. He rolled his hips up, trying to get more friction, but Kyo sat up abruptly, gingerly prying himself from Die’s embrace.

“Shh, shh, hold on a second,” Kyo said, soothing Die as he tried to reach for him. He was breathing more heavily than Die had really noticed, and took a moment to push his own sweat-damp hair back form his forehead. Then he traced the back of an index finger up the length of Die’s cock. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

It made Die feel oddly warm to be praised and admired like this, even when he was supposed to be the one watching Kyo—and he _was_ watching him. But Kyo was watching right back.

Sitting back on his knees, Kyo yanked Die forward by his hips, up into his lap, letting the upper half of his body stay lying on the mattress. He’d never actually pulled out, and his hands held Die firmly as he pulled him down onto his cock, directing his movements and fucking into him again without another word.

It took away what little friction Die had had, but made it easier to look up at Kyo and really see him, and Die’s hands scrabbled uncertainly between the sheets and Kyo’s thighs beneath him, until Kyo shook his head.

“Why don’t you touch yourself?” he asked between panting breaths. “Don’t you wanna cum for me?”

And Die really, really did, but it was like until that moment it hadn’t occurred to him that he was allowed. An instant later he had his fist tight around his own cock, and it was only another minute or two before he was cumming all over his own stomach, his eyes wide open and locked on Kyo’s.

“ _Shit_ ,” Kyo whispered, and followed him over the edge after only a few short thrusts.

Exhausted as he was and still coming down form his own orgasm, Die had to work to make sure he kept his eyes open to watch, aware that this was a far more vulnerable moment than anything anyone in that drawing class got to see. This was something only for him. _I see you_.

But he couldn’t fight the heaviness of his eyelids for long after that, and when he opened them again, Kyo was smiling softly down at him, cleaning him up with that same meticulous care.

“Feeling okay?” he said, running a hand through Die’s wild hair. “Is there anything I can get you?”

Die swallowed. “Feel… good. Really good.” He swallowed again. “Water?”

Kyo’s smile widened, and he passed him a glass of water that was already sitting waiting on the nightstand. He helped him sit up to drink it.

There was more Die wanted to say, sappy things about how close he felt to Kyo or how safe he felt being looked after by him, but it had been the longest day imaginable, and Die was tired down to the marrow of his bones, so he didn’t protest when Kyo stripped down to his boxer-briefs and climbed into bed with him, pulling the blankets up over both of them.

He had the feeling there was something he was neglecting, something they were supposed to talk about, but whatever it was, it could wait until morning.


	25. Chapter 25

Die was starting to feel more comfortable in Kyo’s apartment. It still wasn’t anything he’d call homey, but there was something nice about walking around by himself in the morning while Kyo was still snoozing away in bed. He could really take in Kyo’s living space without Kyo there to feel self-conscious about him looking—not that he was sure Kyo ever actually was self-conscious, but. Maybe Die was the one who was nervous, knowing that Kyo was watching him look.

At any rate, he took the opportunity now to examine the contents of Kyo’s shelves more closely—Huh, he’d never have taken Kyo for a rom-com fan—and he made sure to do something useful, too, and fed Kyo’s goldfish.

Once that was done, he turned back to the kitchen to get coffee started when he thought he heard some quiet giggling from down the hall, and a smile came to his face as he headed back to Kyo’s bedroom to say good morning properly.

“Kyo? You up?” he called as he approached the door, and the sound on the other side stopped abruptly. Die frowned. “Kyo?” he said again, and pushed the door open.

Kyo was up all right. He was sitting upright, buck naked, straddling the hips of Satoshi, equally nude and flat on the mattress beneath him. They both looked at Die in shock as he opened the door.

Die didn’t know how to react. He was outraged, but a part of him felt like it must have been his mistake for interrupting. Should he just close the door, and see himself out?

But he hadn’t even heard Satoshi come in, and somehow that tipped his anger past where he could ignore it. “What the hell is this?”

“What does it look like?” Kyo said, rocking slightly in a way that made Die realize he was riding Satoshi’s cock right there, not even trying to hide it.

“But—but what about us?” Die said, his anger turning to despair. “Was I not… good?”

Satoshi laughed behind his hand, and Kyo shot him a glare.

“There was nothing wrong with you,” Kyo said, but it was not at all reassuring when it was interrupted by a moan as Satoshi thrust up into him.

“I thought,” Die said, “I thought you said he had a new boyfriend.”

“We’re in an open relationship,” Satoshi contributed casually. “Aren’t you?”

“I never said that,” Die said, though he was wracking his brain to think if they’d ever established otherwise.

“Well, you did say you’re not an artist,” Satoshi said, and wrapped a hand around Kyo’s hard cock, pumping slowly. “I’m not surprised that you wouldn’t get it.”

Kyo smiled at Die, something coy and unfamiliar. “You’re welcome to stay and watch,” he said, and bent to kiss Satoshi, all sloppy and desperate—

Die woke up panting like he’d run a marathon. Light was barely filtering in through the curtains of Kyo’s bedroom, and a warm leg was hooked around Die’s thigh as Kyo sprawled out beside him. It had just been a dream.

Apparently Die’s subconscious was still holding onto some fears that he’d all but forgotten in the heat of the moment last night, and even if it had been a dream, Die’s heart was pounding.

Kyo was sleeping peacefully, but that just filled Die with some bizarre resentment. Why did he get to continue sleeping like nothing was wrong, when Die had to suffer this kind of stress? He wouldn’t even have been having dreams like that if Kyo had given him some _warning_ about Satoshi beforehand, or if he’d explained what kind of relationship they had after Die had found out, or if he’d _said_ right to Satoshi’s face that Die was his boyfriend, just to reaffirm their relationship where Die could see it.

It had surprised Die how much it had bothered him at the drawing class, but now, the morning after, not having truly dealt with it, he found it bothered him even _more_. What reason did Kyo have to be so secretive about something like this, when he was always so upfront about everything else?

Die sighed and rolled over, shoving Kyo’s leg off of himself and ignoring the small sound of complaint he made in response. He didn’t think he could fall back asleep with all of this nagging at his mind, and even if he could, he didn’t want to go back to more of the same kind of dreams. He already felt like the image of Kyo moaning on Satoshi’s dick was burned unpleasantly onto the inside of his eyelids.

He’d have felt so much better if he could know that it was ancient history, that there was no chance of either Kyo or Satoshi retaining any kind of feelings for the other. Although, he was aware, they had known each other much longer than Die had known Kyo. And even ancient history was still history. How was he supposed to compete with that?

But no, instead Kyo had said that it _wasn’t_ long ago that he and Satoshi had been involved. That was so vague—deliberately so? Just how recently were they talking?

Die thought back to last week, how he’d been half-convinced Kyo was going on a date because of how dressed up he was. He’d never gotten any confirmation on that point either way, but even if it wasn’t a date, could Kyo have been dressing up like that just to go to the art class? Had he gone out of his way to look nice because he’d known he’d see Satoshi there?

_What the fuck?_ That was only a _week_ ago. Maybe it wasn’t a date, but for all Die knew, Kyo had fooled around with Satoshi in that very art room once all the students had gone home for the night. And that was where he chose to bring Die on their date? All that stuff he’d said about Die having a good time, and there being no kids there, had it been a load of bullshit just so Kyo could laugh to himself about having put Die in such an awkward position?

This wasn’t good. The more he thought about it, the angrier Die got, and there was no resolution to be had without actually talking to Kyo about how he felt. The fact that Kyo was there, _still_ sleeping like a babe pissed him off further, like a big old _Fuck You_ to Die’s internal struggles.

It was almost seven o’clock. Kyo liked to sleep in, but Die couldn’t lie there, seething and waiting any longer. He hauled himself out of bed, found his pants where they’d been discarded on the floor, and headed to the bathroom.

Die didn’t want to be angry with Kyo over some past relationship. He knew it wasn’t logical, that it wasn’t even any of his _business_ , but there were too many aspects of it that didn’t sit right with him. He was perhaps just as angry with himself, for not hashing out his doubts and insecurities before going to bed the night before, but the blame for that came circling back to Kyo, too, however unfairly. If Kyo had addressed these issues in the first place, those doubts and insecurities wouldn’t have arisen.

The bathroom light was harsh and unflattering, but Die stood staring at himself in the mirror, examining the lines of his face. He couldn’t help but remember the previous night, how Kyo had called him beautiful, had looked at him and _seen_ him. He always did, always smiled at him and touched him like he was worth something, no matter how many of his flaws he witnessed, or his secrets he knew. Looking at himself now, Die struggled to see what Kyo saw in him. His brows were drawn together, deep wrinkles between them, and the bad lighting made the dark, exhausted circles under his eyes more pronounced; even his hair, arguably his best feature, was a tangled mess.

He had to chuckle scornfully to himself, thinking of Kyo’s repeated suggestion that Die model for the art class. Now he knew for sure he never would, but even before seeing what it was like firsthand, Die couldn’t think of anyone wanting to draw him. He hated the idea of being seen that closely, of all those dreaded lines on his face being eternalized on paper.

It was yet another way in which he couldn’t compare to Satoshi. Die had seen with his own eyes that Satoshi’s was a face Kyo wanted to draw, _did_ draw, even if he hadn’t told Die at the time who he was. Once again, wherever Satoshi was, that uncharacteristic reticence seemed to follow.

All at once it struck Die when else Kyo had been secretive, about that same sketchbook. He’d snatched it away and never let Die see what lay hidden in those later pages, and now, with a horrible sinking certainty, Die _knew_ what Kyo was unwilling to show him: Satoshi, in more… _intimate_ poses, ones that would have revealed the nature of their relationship before Die ever knew who Satoshi was; sketches that would confirm just _how recently_ they’d been involved.

He had to confirm it for himself. He had to see the pages in that sketchbook that Kyo had hidden from him before.

Die ventured out into the living room, turning on more lights as he went, trying to think where he could find it. Kyo had brought a different sketchbook with him to the drawing class, so where could this one be? He looked around, but only really paused for one intimidated moment before approaching Kyo’s art corner.

It was difficult to maneuver in the cramped area, arranged for someone smaller and more familiar with the setup than Die himself, but he squeezed in, between the easel and a tiered cart almost overflowing with more colors of pens and pencils than he could count, among all the well-loved art supplies, to begin searching for the sketchbook Kyo had shown him before. He had a good idea what he was looking for, but Kyo’s organization system didn’t make it too easy for him. Against the wall there was a low shelf lined with sketchbooks, but Die couldn’t tell if they were in any specific order; to him it seemed like a jumble, all different brands and sizes lined up together, probably half of them spiral-bound like the one he was hoping to find.

Trying to approach it rationally, like some ironic afterthought, he took the book closest to the end of the shelf first, flipping through it for something familiar, but he didn’t see anything he necessarily recognized. There were a lot of insect drawings, studies of different types of wings, but no incriminating portraits of Satoshi or anyone else.

Die grimaced to himself. Was that what he wanted? Going through completed sketchbooks unattended like this, it was not unlikely that he could stumble upon art of _more_ of Kyo’s old flames. Was it worth putting himself through that just to prove— _something_ about Kyo and Satoshi?

He pulled the next book that looked about the right size off the shelf with a little too much force, and the ones on either side went tumbling off after it, landing on the floor with a series of loud thuds.

“Shit," Die said, and in his urgency to pick them up, he bumped into the cart of precariously balanced writing and drawing implements behind him, and a whole box of colored pencils went clattering to the floor as well. “ _Shit_ ,” he said again, but he prioritized picking up the sketchbooks first, still intent on finding what he was looking for.

As he crouched, trying to gather the fallen sketchbooks, along with any loose papers that had fluttered out of them, his gaze caught on a book that lay open to a page with a man’s face. He dropped everything else and snatched up that book instead.

It wasn’t the same page he’d seen before, but it _might_ have been Satoshi. It might have been someone else. Die turned the page, and the same guy was there again, drawn in a sweatshirt and jeans, nothing remotely suggestive about it. The page after that was of flowers.

Die growled in frustration, almost finding it worse to _not_ get confirmation of what he really didn’t want to know. He threw the book down and pulled another off the shelf.

“Die?” a soft, sleep-rough voice came from somewhere behind him. “What’s going on?”

Telling the story of how this had started would take too long, and would probably make him look bad, so Die didn’t look up from the pages he was skimming now, even as he heard Kyo’s footsteps drawing nearer.

“What the hell happened in here?”

It was harder to ignore Kyo when he was standing right there, so Die chanced a look at him. He was still dressed in only his boxer-briefs, and was rubbing sleepily at one eye. His voice sounded more concerned than angry.

Die still didn’t have any kind of explanation for what he was doing. “Some stuff fell.”

“No kidding. What did—Are you… looking for something?” Kyo asked.

Die debated for a minute how to answer. Maybe if he started at the beginning, Kyo could lay all his fears to rest without it turning into a big issue—but in a way, that annoyed him, like Kyo would be _getting away_ with something. Looking up at Kyo, Die said bluntly, “Satoshi.”

Kyo just looked even more confused than when he’d walked in. “What about him?”

“I recognized him from the sketchbook you showed me before,” Die said. “I’m trying to find it again.”

“Why do you want to see it?”

“You never told me it was him,” Die said. “I guess you didn’t want me to know.”

“You’d never even met him when you saw it,” Kyo said. “I didn’t think it would mean much to tell you his name.”

“And you didn’t want me asking too many questions, so you stopped me from looking at it more, even though I wanted to. I know now why you were trying to hide it from me,” Die said. “Didn’t want me to see _more_ pictures of him. Probably ones of him naked, or what, maybe of the two of you fucking?”

“ _What_?” Kyo’s lip curled and his shoulders rolled back, immediately preparing for a fight. “What the _fuck_ are you talking about?”

“Am I wrong? That’s why you were so quick to keep me from seeing it, isn’t it?”

“Even if you were right, what does it matter to you who I was fucking—much less _drawing_ —before we were ever together? Are you shitting me?”

Die dropped the sketchbook in his hand, and stood up, but Kyo held his ground, glaring at him. “It _matters_ ,” Die said, “because you took me to meet the guy and never mentioned that you two had a history! It matters because, even when you introduced us, you didn’t tell him I was your boyfriend! And just why is that? Planning on getting back with him later?”

Kyo laughed shortly. “Guess now you know how I feel about Shinya.”

Now it was Die’s turn to be completely flabbergasted. “What does Shinya have to do with it?!”

Kyo gave him an incredulous look. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No, I just don’t see—”

“You give me all that shit about Hayashi,” Kyo said, not raising his voice, but speaking so intensely that Die might have taken a step backward if there had been anywhere to go, “and about the kids, not wanting people to find out, but it’s not like I don’t know who you’re _really_ hiding our relationship from: it’s _Shinya_. You know, your _friend_. Your _ex_.”

Die was feeling increasingly cornered, both physically and not. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“I even tried to get through to you before, but what a surprise, you blew me off,” Kyo said, dragging a hand through his hair, still all mussed-up from sleeping on it. “How else do you explain yourself? You’re weird as fuck about being seen with me at McDonald’s, but you’ll go out to dinner with Shinya two days later, and hardly think anything of it.”

“That’s not fair,” Die said. “You know that Shinya and I have been getting dinner together for ages, and we’re just going as friends, it’s not the same at all.”

“Although your claim to me was that the _kids_ all think you and Shinya are an item, whether you are or not, and those rumors are why you don’t want to do any public dating.”

“Right, but—”

“Except you care more about them seeing you with _me_ than seeing you with Shinya.” Kyo crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re not worried about your students or about the principal, you’re worried if anyone talks about it, it’ll get back to Shinya, and he’s the one you can’t stand the thought of finding out.”

Die tried to argue but no words came out. Much as he didn’t want to admit it, there was some truth to what Kyo was saying.

“I can’t claim to know what your reasons are,” Kyo said, looking down at the floor, scattered with sketchbook pages and colored pencils. “I don’t know if it’s because you still have feelings for Shinya—You can say it’s in the past all you want, but I saw how you reacted to Shinya’s girlfriend at the winter fundraiser—or—or maybe it’s just _me_.” He inhaled, a bit shakily. “If you—” He shook his head, but didn’t continue, his eyes still downcast.

This wasn’t how Die had meant for this confrontation to go. He hated to see Kyo looking small and hurt, doubting Die’s feelings for him. But he also hated how his bluster had been knocked out of him without any of his questions being answered, and with some self-destructive determination to not lose the argument he said, “So that’s what yesterday was, you thought you’d give me a taste of my own medicine? Parade around naked in front of your old fuck-buddy just to prove a point?”

Kyo raised his eyes to Die’s face, and just stood, looking at him for an uncomfortably long time. It was a challenge of sorts, or perhaps just a chance for Die to backpedal, but he didn’t take it.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Kyo said finally, and turned to walk away. “You can see yourself out.” But rather than head back down the hall, he crossed to where he’d dropped his bag on the floor when they’d stumbled in the night before, and crouched to pull something out of it. He came back towards Die, flipping through a large spiral-bound sketchbook. “Here. Since you’re so damn curious.” He tossed it unceremoniously on the floor between them, then went off towards the bathroom without another word.

Die watched him go, but didn’t bother trying to call him back. Kyo had made it clear that the argument was over, and Die hadn’t won. Maybe there was nothing to win.

Only when he heard the dim sound of the shower turning on did Die really look down at the book that lay on the floor, open to the page he’d seen before with the now-easily-recognizable sketch of Satoshi’s face. He hesitated to move towards it; even though he’d been the one to begin the search for it, he was still afraid of what he’d find.

Painful as it might be, he also knew he would always regret missing this one and only chance to find out the truth for himself. He squeezed his way out of the art corner and knelt to look at the book.

After the page featuring Satoshi, there were several more he’d seen last time, and he flipped through them quickly, knowing he was on a time limit here. Maybe Kyo hadn’t said it in so many words, but the impression was that he wanted Die to be gone by the time he got out of the shower, and Die wasn’t ready for the second round of unpleasant confrontation that would surely take place if he failed to comply.

Without warning, Die reached the first page he hadn’t seen before Kyo snatched it away, and the bottom dropped out of his stomach as it became obvious why Kyo hadn’t shown it to him before:

It was _him_. A whole page of—rough sketches, but still Die, without a doubt.

He turned the page—More sketches of him, a little more accurate, like Kyo was learning his face, from every angle. The next page was the same, drawing after drawing of Die’s profile, Die’s eyes, Die’s hands. Die with his guitar. Die talking, smiling, _laughing_.

He let the sketchbook rest on the floor as he stared down at it, his hands shaking too much to hold it or continue turning pages. He thought he might be sick. He’d fucked up too much.

He’d thrown a tantrum over a shitty dream and _one_ old sketch of Satoshi, a _longtime friend_ of Kyo’s, which was nothing compared to the time Kyo had apparently spent drawing Die himself. Not to mention he’d trashed Kyo’s whole art setup in the process! Die looked over his shoulder at the books and pencils strewn all over the floor, hit with the urge to clean them up.

But Kyo wanted him to leave. He still needed to get dressed, and there just wasn’t time. Shit. What could he do? What had he been _thinking_?

He got to his feet and hurried to Kyo’s bedroom to find the rest of his clothes. Maybe he would still have time to pick everything up after he got dressed. As he went about gathering his things, pulling his shirt on and doing up the buttons, he replayed some key unfortunate moments in his mind. Maybe it wasn’t too late to fix this. He could wait for Kyo to come out, or he could even knock on the bathroom door, let him know he wanted to keep talking.

After all, Die hadn’t been the one to end their conversation in the first place; Kyo was just kicking him out without giving them a chance to resolve things. And this wasn’t even the first time! How could Die be expected to carry the burden of all the healthy communication in this relationship, with Kyo just shutting down and tossing him out on his ass every time he didn’t feel like talking?

In a way, Die reasoned, this entire thing had stemmed from _Kyo’s_ communication failures.

Yes, he told himself, if Kyo had just told Die about Satoshi from the beginning, if he hadn’t hidden the contents of his sketchbook, if he’d brought up whatever his deal with Shinya was earlier—

Die had to close the door on that line of thinking or he’d have to admit that Kyo had _tried_ to talk to him about Shinya and he just hadn’t gotten it. Or maybe he had gotten it, but been too much in denial to understand the real problem.

That didn’t matter though, because Kyo was _wrong_ about Shinya anyway, and it wasn’t Die’s fault that Kyo just didn’t understand his and Shinya’s friendship. He was being jealous for _no reason_ , and Die couldn’t be blamed for that.

He came out of the bedroom fully dressed, but before he could make it out to clean up the mess in the living room, he heard the shower shut off. He was out of time.

After a few seconds of awkwardly hovering by the front door and weighing his options, Die decided to just go. He could always text Kyo to apologize about the art supplies later, and it wasn’t like anything was _broken_. Probably. He picked up his backpack and jacket, put on his shoes, and headed out to his car.

It was strange to return to his apartment in this state of mind. He'd planned to spend the day mostly with Kyo, and now it was morning and he was home alone and trying to ignore the impending panic over what a mess he’d made of things. He found it helped to hold onto some of his anger; if he could keep blaming Kyo, he didn’t have to feel as shitty about himself.

So he clung to that throughout the day, every time his mind circled back to the morning’s fight (which was often), or to the dream he’d had (which was not fair, but it helped him stay angry), or the entire surreal experience of attending Kyo’s drawing class. Reflecting on it at this point was difficult. He couldn’t tell how he felt about the whole thing, but the positives and negatives of it all blurred together so frustratingly he was mostly able to tally it as more fuel for his anger.

That didn't mean he didn’t have moments where he wished he could just take it all back. He lost count of how many times he opened his conversation with Kyo on his phone and thought about how to apologize. He even started typing it out a few times, but he always deleted it. Even if apologizing was the answer, he probably wasn’t supposed to do it in a text message.

No matter how many times he checked, though, Kyo hadn’t reached out to him, either. He didn’t know if that was what he was waiting for, or if he was waiting for anything, but whatever tiny fracture had begun that morning seemed to grow with every confirmation that this wasn’t just going to disappear, and that any move towards reparations wasn’t going to come from Kyo first. Whether or not Kyo had shared in the creation of the mess, Die would have to be the one to clean it up.

He occupied himself with other things; exercise, household chores, lesson plans, and perhaps most importantly, preparing for tomorrow’s gig at the library. It seemed like a small and easy undertaking after everything he’d gone through in the past twenty-four hours, and although he didn’t know exactly what he could expect, he was sort of looking forward to it.

Especially since Kyo would be there, and they’d hopefully be able to talk afterwards. Face-to-face would be better, and now that they’d both had some time to calm down, maybe it wouldn’t go like it did before.

That was Die’s vision, and the solution to his problems. Except the next day, Kyo didn’t come to the library gig.

Throughout his short set, Die kept peering as far as he could from the semi-secluded children’s area, out across the library, thinking Kyo might show up late, but maybe it was unrealistic for him to even hope, after how they’d left things. Had he made an even bigger mess of it all than he’d thought?

Although Kyo did not make an appearance, there were a number of other familiar faces in the small crowd: kids from school, whose parents must have been a lot more privy to the local library’s goings-on than Die would have guessed. And partway through, an even more unexpected guest—looking weary and put-upon, Kaoru, flanked by his own two children.

Die was so surprised to see him that he almost lost his concentration, right in the middle of introducing an English-language picture book to the group. Some part of him was still embarrassed to let Kaoru see him like this. After all the times Kaoru had insisted Die should be having a Real career as a musician, he felt that something like this would only incur his disapproval even more than usual. Which was exactly why he hadn’t mentioned it to him. But if all these kids found out about it, he figured Kaoru might have learned about it the same way.

As he watched, Kaoru didn’t seem that disapproving, though, or at least he didn’t show it outwardly. He encouraged his children to participate while he stood back and watched, laughing at Die’s jokes and banter, and applauding as was appropriate. Die tried not to be too distracted by his presence, but between that and Kyo’s absence, it was a wonder he made it through the thirty-minute set in one piece.

He did though, and as far as he could tell in his preoccupied condition, the kids enjoyed it. A few parents came up as he was cleaning up the tiny stage area and thanked him, saying they were looking forward to his next performance. Die supposed that meant it had been a success, even if Kyo hadn’t been there to see it.

When the other audience members had more or less cleared away, Kaoru approached, and to Die’s astonishment, complimented his performance just as all the other parents had done.

“It was nice to get to see you up there, doing your thing,” Kaoru said. “I’m sure you’ll get a bigger crowd as word spreads that it’s a recurring event.”

“You don’t think it’s a waste of my talent as a musician?”

“Do _you_ think so?”

Die shrugged. “Not really. It’s pretty fun, and children aren’t such harsh critics.”

“It certainly seemed like everyone enjoyed the show,” Kaoru agreed, with a glance back at where his own kids were indiscriminately pulling books off the shelves. “Anyway, I don’t think a Sunday morning gig like this is going to be robbing you of many opportunities for pursuing your more adult music career at the same time.”

“No, I guess not,” Die said. “How did you even find out about it? Toshiya told you?”

Kaoru frowned a bit then. “No, Kyo.”

Die wasn’t sure if he caught himself before reacting to that.

“That is—he didn’t tell _me_ ,” Kaoru amended. “But he told his class, and my daughter insisted we had to come. It seems he really hyped it up.” Looking around, he added, “I was honestly surprised not to see him here.”

“Yeah, well.” Die couldn’t really say he was surprised, considering, but that didn’t change that it hurt to not have him there.

He hadn’t known that Kyo had been promoting the library gig to his classes, but that was less of a shock than it could have been. When they’d last talked about it, Kyo had been highly supportive, except for his skepticism at the English element of it. At first, Die had been hesitant, thinking maybe it would look suspicious somehow if Kyo showed up, but Kyo had insisted over the course of the past week that he would attend, and apparently done more work than anyone to publicize the event.

Kaoru was looking at Die strangely. “Maybe he’ll be able to make it to the next one,” he said.

Die made a noncommittal noise. Would Kyo be speaking to him two weeks from now?

“I’ll be sure to come again, anyway,” Kaoru said firmly. “My kids had a great time.” Looking Die up and down once more, he said, “I’ll see you at school. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Sure, okay,” Die said distractedly. “You too.” He watched Kaoru round up his children and take off, only half actually seeing it.

He didn’t really know what he was supposed to do next. Talking to Kyo when he saw him at the library had been his only tentative plan, and it had been a bust. Texting to comment on how he hadn’t showed wouldn’t be addressing what he truly needed to address, and could be seen as passive-aggressive, depending on how he phrased it. He still had some distant hope that Kyo’s missing the gig had been unrelated to their fight; maybe he’d overslept, or something else had come up, or he’d had some issue with transportation.

It was a stretch, but the slim possibility brought Die some comfort in a rather pathetic way. He’d still never know the truth until he and Kyo actually talked.

Mired in these thoughts, Die finished packing up everything from his little performance. He put his guitar safely in its hard case, returned the two English books he’d read to the group to their place on the shelf, wiped down the whiteboard he’d used to write some key words. The other Kaoru, Yamamoto-san, was waiting for him in the library office with more cake, to celebrate their success.

As she talked about the positive responses she’d heard from parents, and plans for next time, Die sat perfectly still, and refocused on his anger at Kyo, deciding it was easier to be pissed at him for not showing up than to allow himself to feel hurt. He was practiced, though, at slipping his masks back on when he needed them, and he was sure that when he smiled at the end of their talk, thanking Yamamoto-san and bidding her farewell until next time, she never even suspected there was something off about him.


End file.
